I 


I 


m 
i 


GIFT  OF 


OLD   SPAIN   AND   NEW  SPAIN 


BY  HENRY  M.  FIELD,  D.D. 

AUTHOE  OP  "  FEOM  THE  LAKES   OP  KILLABNET  TO  THE  GOLDEN  HOBN, 

"FROM  EGYPT  TO  JAPAN,"  "ON  THE  DESEBT,"  "AMONG  THE  HOLY  HILLS," 

AND  "THE  GBEEK  ISLANDS  AND  TUBKEY  AFTEB  THE  WAB." 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
1888 


COPYBIGHT,  1888.  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNEB'S  SONS. 


TO  EDWARD  EVERETT  HALE. 

There  is  a  luck  in  being  born.  It  must  have  been  a 
good  star  that  shone  upon  the  day  of  my  birth,  since  it 
was  the  same  in  which  you  came  into  the  world,  for  which 
you  are  sometimes  pleased  to  speak  of  me  as  a  twin-bro- 
ther. But  I  can  only  think  of  you  as  an  elder  brother, 
conceding  to  you  the  precedence  by  which  you  got  the  start 
of  me  at  the  very  beginning  of  life,  and  have  kept  it  ever 
since.  I  have  always  looked  up  to  you  as  both  an  older  and 
a  wiser  man,  and  have  been  content  to  follow  in  your  steps. 
One  of  the  good  ways  in  which  you  have  gone  before,  and 
I  have  followed  after,  has  led  me  to  the  pleasant  land  of 
Spain,  of  which  you  have  written  in  such  a  delightful  man- 
ner as  almost  to  discourage  further  description,  except  that 
the  field  is  so  rich  that  there  is  always  something  for  the 
latest  gleaner.  As  you  look  back  lingeringly  to  those  re- 
ceding shores,  you  may  welcome  even  these  light  sketches 
of  a  land  that  is  dear  to  us  both.  And  now,  as  we  began 
the  race  of  life  together,  let  us  keep  on  with  even  pace  to 
the  end,  to  lie  down  at  last  on  the  warm  breast  of  the  same 
grand  old  Commonwealth,  you  by  the  sea  and  I  among  the 
hills,  content  if  it  may  be  truly  said  that  we  were  not 
unworthy  sons  of  such  a  mother. 

HENRY  M.  FIELD. 
3 


*^xj! 


PREFACE. 

On  the  night  of  the  14th  of  December,  1886,  the  Cortes 
in  Madrid  was  crowded  to  hear  Castelar.  It  was  a  critical 
moment.  There  had  just  been  an  insurrection,  which  had 
nearly  proved  a  revolution.  This  sinister  event  led  some 
to  take  gloomy  views  of  the  future  of  the  country.  Cas- 
telar was  more  hopeful,  and  to  justify  his  confidence  he 
reviewed  the  history  of  Spain  since  he  had  been  on  the 
stage,  in  the  course  of  which  he  recalled  this  startling  remi- 
niscence :  that  less  than  twenty  years  ago  Senor  Sagasta, 
the  Primp.  Minister,  to  whom  he  pointed  sitting  at  the  head 
of  the  ministerial  bench  ;  and  Senor  Martos,  the  President 
of  the  chamber;  and  himself — were  all  under  sentence  of 
death  /  To-day  these  proscribed  men,  condemned  for  no 
crime  but  that  of  loving  their  country  too  well,  are  'the 
leaders  of  Spain.  Sagasta  is  the  head  of  the  government ; 
Martos  is  the  first  man  of  the  chamber  ;  and  Castelar, 
though  in  the  opposition,  as  he  is  a  Republican,  is  the 
great  orator  and  tribune  of  the  people.  This  single  fact 
shows  how  wide  is  the  gulf  that  separates  Old  Spain  from 
New  Spain — the  land  of  tyrants,  of  Charles  V.  and  Philip 
II.,  from  the  land  of  freedom.  To  set  these  contrasts,  in 
sharp  relief,  and  thus  place  the  Dead  Past  alongside  of  the 
Living  Present,  is  the  object  of  this  little  volume,  by  which 
the  writer  hopes  to  engage  the  interest  of  his  American 
readers  for  a  country  which  has  had  a  great  history,  and 
which  may  have  a  not  less  glorious  future. 

5 


CONTENTS. 


I.    IN  SIGHT  OF  THE  PYRENEES.     PAU  AND  LOUBDES 9 

• 
II.    BIARBITZ.     CBOSSING  THE  BOBDEB 20 

III.  SAN  SEBASTIAN.    THE  BASQUES  AND  THE  CABLIST  WAB.  . .    28 

IV.  THE  BIBTHPLACE  OF  IGNATIUS  LOYOLA 39 

V.    BUBGOS  :  THE  CATHEDBAL  AND  MONASTEBY 62 

VI.  INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  CAPITAL 78 

VII.  THE  QUEEN  BEGENT  AND  THE  LITTLE  KING 91 

VIII.  THE  GOBIES.    DEBATE  ON  THE  LATE  INSUBBECTION 101 

IX.  CASTELAB 117 

X.  THE  DECADENCE  OF  SPAIN.     THE  INQUISITION 137 

XI.  A  REVOLUTION.    FOUB  EXPEBIMENTS  OF  GOVEBNMENT.  ...  151 

XII.  THE  ESCOBIAL.   PHILIP  II.   THE  BUBIAL- PLACE  OF  KINGS.  168 

XIII.  THE  CITY  OF  TOLEDO 191 

XIV.  THE  CITY  AND  MOSQUE  OF  COBDOVA 204 

XV.  THE  ALHAMBBA.     THE  LAST  SIGH  OF  THE  MOOB 213 

XVI.  THE  ABCHBISHOP  OF  GBANADA 228 

XVII.  PBOTESTANTISM  AND  RELIGIOUS  LIBEBTY 288 

XVIII.  MIDNIGHT  MASS  IN  THE  CATHEDBAL  OF  SEVILLE 261 

XIX.     PlCTUBES  AND  PALACES,   BULL-FIGHTS   AND   BEGGABS 275 

XX.    SPAIN  AND  FBANCE.    THE  DON  QUIXOTE  OF  TO-DAY 290 

7 


CHAPTEE  I. 
IN  SIGHT  OF  THE  PYRENEES— PAU  AND  LOURDES. 

Spain  may  be  said  to  begin  as  soon  as  we  come  in  sight 
of  the  Pyrenees ;  and  no  sooner  did  that  chain  of  moun- 
tains show  itself  above  the  horizon,  than  I  felt  that  I  was 
coming  into  a  presence  which  should  not  be  too  suddenly 
approached.  I  do  not  like  to  rush  into  a  new  country,  but 
would  linger  on  its  borders,  taking  a  distant  view,  before 
entering  on  the  unknown :  especially  with  a  country  like 
Spain,  which  (strangely  as  it  may  sound)  begins  in  France. 
For,  though  the  Pyrenees  divide  the  two  countries,  and 
he  who  stands  on  their  ridge  can  look  down  into  both, 
yet  the  mountains  are  more  Spanish  than  French.  The 
tide  of  invasion  and  conquest  has  flowed  and  reflowed 
through  their  passes  from  Hannibal  to  Napoleon,  so  that 
their  populations  have  become  intermingled  ;  and  to  this 
day  the  Basques,  the  most  ancient  people  of  Spain,  are 
numerous  in  the  French  province  of  the  Lower  Pyrenees 
as  well  as  along  the  shores  of  the  Bay  of  Biscay. 

The  Autumn  of  1886  had  nearly  gone  :  it  was  almost 
the  very  last  day,  that  I  came  from  Paris  to  Bordeaux, 
from  which  I  might  have  gone  on  directly  to  Bayonne, 
and  in  a  few  hours  been  in  Spain.  But  I  could  not  pass 


10  BORDEAUX. 

the  fourth  city  in  France — Bordeaux  ranking  next  to 
Paris,  Lyons,  and  Marseilles.  We  did  not  arrive  till 
after  sunset,  but  as  we  rode  across  the  long  bridge  which 
spans  the  Garonne,  and  saw  the  lights  reaching  far  up 
and  down  the  river,  and  afterwards  rode  through  the 
streets  and  squares,  we  saw  enough  to  show  us  how  large 
and  beautiful  it  was.  As  a  port  it  has  not  the  same  ad- 
vantage as  Havre,  in  being  directly  on  the  sea.  It  is  ap- 
proached by  a  river,  but  so  is  New  Orleans,  so  is  Liver- 
pool, so  is  London  itself.  The  Garonne  broadens  as  it 
approaches  the  sea,  and  forms  a  basin  in  which  a  whole 
navy  might  find  shelter.  It  was  crowded  with  ships  from 
every  part  of  the  world,  including  steamers  from  almost 
every  European,  and  from  some  transatlantic,  ports.  Bor- 
deaux has  always  had  a  close  connection  with  America. 
Here  Franklin  landed  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago, 
when  he  came  to  seek  the  aid  of  France  in  our  War  of 
Independence — a  pleasant  memory  to  an  American  that 
evening,  as  he  walked  about  the  brilliantly  lighted  city. 
The  next  morning,  as  the  train  left  very  early,  I  had  to 
rise  while  it  was  yet  dark.  The  lamps  were  still  burning 
as  I  rode  through  the  silent  streets ;  but  the  dawn  was 
beginning  to  appear,  with  the  promise  of  a  beautiful  day, 
and  the  masts  of  the  shipping  stood  up  tall  and  clear 
against  the  sky. 

For  an  hour  or  two,  as  we  keep  southward,  the  land- 
scape is  cheerless  almost  to  desolation.  No  part  of  France 
is  more  dreary  than  the  Landes — those  long  stretches  of 
unbroken  plain,  grown  up  with  pines.  But  as  you  turn 
eastward,  and  bear  away  from  the  coast,  the  change  is 
complete.  The  monotonous  landscape  gives  place  to  an 
undulating  region,  where  pleasant  villages,  with  their 
thatched  roofs,  and  the  one  church  tower  rising  out  from 
among  the  trees,  indicate  that  we  are  entering  that  beau- 


PAU.  11 

tiful  portion  of  Southern  France  which  lies  along  the 
slopes  of  the  Pyrenees.  As  we  advance  nearer  to  the 
mountains,  we  come  into  their  very  shadows,  which  the 
southern  sun  casts  northward  into  the  valleys  of  France. 
Under  those  mighty  shadows  we  feel  that  we  are  indeed 
in  the  presence  of  a  new  country  and  a  new  people. 

One  o'clock  brought  us  to  Pau.  The  train  stops  beside 
the  Gave,  a  river  issuing  from  the  mountains,  which,  when 
swollen  by  the  melting  snows,  becomes  a  torrent  that 
carries  destruction  in  its  path.  Above  the  river-bed 
rises  a  hill  a  hundred  feet  high,  that  furnishes  the  mag- 
nificent site  of  the  town.  Here  it  stands  on  a  broad 
terrace  looking  southward,  so  that  it  at  once  faces  the 
mountains,  and  gets  the  full  force  of  the  Winter  sun. 
Climbing  the  steep  ascent,  I  was  soon  installed  in  the 
Hotel  de  France,  in  a  room  which  took  in  the  whole  view, 
embracing  the  valley  bounded  by  the  Coteaux  (or  as  we 
should  say,  the  Foot  Hills),  beyond  which  rose  the  long 
line  of  the  Pyrenees.  What  a  vision !  I  had  not  seen 
such  a  sight  since  that  day,  never  to  be  forgotten,  when  I 
stood  on  the  lower  range  of  the  Himalayas  at  sunrise,  and 
looked  away  a  hundred  miles  to  the  awful  heights  which 
form  the  backbone  of  Asia.  A  comparison  which  will  be 
familiar  to  a  greater  number  of  my  readers  who  have 
travelled  in  Switzerland,  is  the  view  from  Berne  of  the 
Bernese  Oberland.  But  there  is  no  need  of  compari- 
son. That  glittering  chain  of  snow-covered  peaks  in- 
stantly fascinates  the  eye — a  fascination  which  I  enjoyed 
without  an  interruption.  For  three  days  that  I  was  in 
Pau,  the  view  was  not  once  obscured.  I  had  it  by  sun- 
rise and  sunset — I  cannot  say  by  moonlight  (for  it  was 
not  the  time  of  the  full  moon),  when  the  effect  must  be 
still  greater,  as  the  silent  peaks  stand  like  sentinels  keep- 
ing their  midnight  watch  along  the  heavenly  battlements. 


12  PAU. 

Besides  its  picturesque  situation,  Pau  is  a  place  of  great 
historical  interest.  It  has  one  of  the  grandest  castles  in 
France,  five  centuries  old,  in  which  Henry  IV.  was  born, 
and  where  they  still  show  his  cradle.  It  is  hard  to  think 
of  a  King,  whose  figure  we  are  accustomed'  to  see  on  mon- 
uments and  statues,  clad  in  mail,  as  a*baby  that  was  rocked 
in  this  pretty  shell !  But  here  he  was  carried  about  in 
his  nurse's  arms,  and  played  under  the  trees,  and  grew  to 
boyhood  and  manhood,  till  he  became  the  great  "  Henry 
of  Navarre,"  whose  "  white  plume  "  was  always  in  the  front 
of  battle. 

The  grounds  about  the  castle  are  laid  out  in  pretty 
walks,  which  in  the  season  are  thronged  with  strangers 
from  many  countries,  most  of  all  by  the  English,  who  are 
attracted  by  the  climate,  which  is  as  soft  as  at  any  place  on 
the  Eiviera.  Every  Winter  there  is  a  large  English  colony, 
with  its  English  church  and  its  English  club  ;  with  the 
usual  accompaniment  of  parties  and  balls  and  races  ;  by 
which  those  who  cannot  exist  without  such  excitement, 
keep  up  a  perpetual  round  of  gaiety.  Happily  the  place 
is  not  confined  to  them.  Others  of  a  more  quiet  turn  can 
enjoy  the  delicious  climate,  and  the  excursions  through 
the  valleys  and  over  the  hills,  and  even  (if  they  so  incline) 
to  the  tops  of  the  mountains.  How  beautiful  all  this 
country  is,  I  too  felt  one  soft,  summery  afternoon,  when 
I  took  a  ride  across  the  river  to  the  top  of  the  neigh- 
boring hills.  These  Coteaux  lie  not  parallel  to  the  river, 
but  at  right  angles  to  it,  and  in  ridges,  up  which  the  car- 
riage climbed  slowly,  winding  hither  and  thither  to  gain 
the  ascent,  from  which  we  looked  down  into  deep  valleys 
on  either  side,  richly  cultivated  ;  while  in  every  direction 
were  seen  the  chateaux  of  wealthy  Frenchmen  or  English- 
men (one  was  pointed  out  to  me  that  had  been  recently 
purchased  by  an  American  lady),  who  make  it  their  retreat 


REFORMERS    BEFORE   THE   REFORMATION.         13 

for  the  Winter.  The  pleasure  of  the  excursion  was  greatly 
increased  by  the  company  of  the  daughter  of  the  pastor 
of  the  French  church,  with  her  sister-in-law,  the  wife 
of  another  pastor  of  an  ancient  church  in  the  Pyrenees, 
which,  in  spite  of  all  trials  and  persecutions,  has  kept  its 
faith  unstained  for  hundreds  of  years. 

This  southern  part  of  France  has  a  history  which  ought 
to  be  known  by  every  Protestant.  We  are  now  in  ancient 
Languedoc,  which,  with  Provence  farther  to  the  east,  formed 
the  country  of  the  Albigenses,  who  were  Keformers  before 
the  Keformation,  holding  that  faith  hundreds  of  years  be- 
fore Luther  was  born.  They  were  a  people  refined  and 
cultivated,  having  made  great  progress  in  science  and 
learning  and  the  arts.  Says  Macaulay  in  his  famous  re- 
view of  Kanke's  History  of  the  Popes  : 

"This  country,  singularly  favored  by  nature,  was  in  the 
twelfth  century  the  most  flourishing  and  civilized  portion  of 
Western  Europe.  It  was  in  no  wise  a  part  of  France.  It  had  a 
distinct  political  existence,  a  distinct  national  character,  distinct 
usages,  and  a  distinct  speech.  The  soil  was  fruitful  and  well 
cultivated,  and  amidst  the  cornfields  and  vineyards  arose  many 
rich  cities,  each  of  which  was  a  little  republic ;  and  many  stately 
castles,  each  of  which  contained  a  miniature  of  an  Imperial 
Court.  It  was  there  that  the  spirit  of  chivalry  first  laid  aside 
its  terrors,  first  took  a  humane  and  graceful  form,  first  appeared 
as  the  inseparable  associate  of  art  and  literature,  of  courage  and 
love.  .  .  . 

4 '  The  language  of  Provence  was  already  the  language  of  the 
learned  and  polite,  and  was  employed  by  numerous  writers,  stu- 
dious of  all  the  arts  of  composition  and  versification.  A  litera- 
ture rich  in  ballads,  in  war-songs,  in  satire,  and  above  all  in 
amatory  poetry,  amused  the  leisure  of  the  knights  and  ladies 
whose  fortified  mansions  adorned  the  banks  of  the  Rhone  and 
Garonne.  With  civilization  had  come  freedom  of  thought.  .  .  . 

"  The  danger  to  the  hierarchy  was  indeed  formidable.  Only 
one  transalpine  nation  had  emerged  from  barbarism,  and  that 
nation  had  thrown  off  all  respect  for  Rome.  Only  one  of  the 


14  EXTERMINATION  OF  THE  ALBIGENSES. 

vernacular  languages  of  Europe  had  yet  been  extensively  em- 
ployed for  literary  purposes,  and  that  language  was  a  machine  in 
the  hands  of  heretics.  The  geographical  position  of  the  secta- 
ries made  the  danger  peculiarly  formidable.  They  occupied  a 
central  region  communicating  directly  with  France,  with  Italy, 
and  with  Spain.  The  provinces  which  were  still  untainted,  were 
separated  from  each  other  by  this  infected  district.  Under  these 
circumstances,  it  seemed  probable  that  a  single  generation  would 
suffice  to  spread  the  reformed  doctrine  to  Lisbon,  to  London, 
and  to  Naples.  But  this  was  not  to  be.  Kome  cried  for  help  to 
the  warriors  of  Northern  France.  She  appealed  at  once  to  their 
superstition  and  their  cupidity.  ...  A  war,  distinguished  even 
among  wars  of  religion  by  its  merciless  atrocity,  destroyed  the 
Albigensian  heresy,  and  with  that  heresy  the  prosperity,  the  civ- 
ilization, the  literature,  the  national  existence,  of  what  was  once 
the  most  opulent  and  enlightened  part  of  the  great  European 
family." 

This  was  one  of  the  greatest  calamities  recorded  in  the 
annals  of  Europe.  Those  students  of  history  who  see  every- 
thing through  a  veil  of  optimism,  may  argue,  by  some 
mysterious  process  of  reasoning  which  they  do  not  ex- 
plain, that  such  reverses  are  in  the  end  for  the  good  of 
mankind.  I  cannot  see  it  so.  To  me  the  crushing  out  of 
the  Albigenses,  their  faith  and  their  civilization,  was  an 
unspeakable  calamity  to  France  and  to  the  world.  It  was 
so  much  lost  in  the  influences  which  lift  up  a  nation — 
a  set-back  in  the  advance  of  humanity  which  is  only  re- 
covered in  the  lapse  of  ages. 

What  sort  of  faith  was  substituted  for  that  which  was 
destroyed,  one  has  a  good  opportunity  to  see  here,  as  it  is 
but  a  two-hours'  ride  from  Pau  to  Lourdes,  the  most 
famous  place  of  pilgrimage  in  Europe.  I  gave  up  a  fore- 
noon to  pay  it  a  visit.  As  an  excursion  it  was  delightful. 
The  morning  was  cool ;  a  hoar-frost  lay  on  the  ground, 
which  slowly  dissolved  with  the  rising  of  the  sun  ;  and 
the  air  grew  warmer  till  we  had  a  perfect  Indian-Summer 


LOURDES.  15 

day.  Though  it  was  near  the  beginning  of  "Winter,  the 
men,  and  the  women  also,  were  at  work  in  the  fields.  As 
the  peasants  universally  wear  the  flat  caps  worn  by  the 
Scotch,  they  might  be  taken  for  Highlanders. 

The  position  of  Lourdes  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque 
that  can  be  imagined.  It  lies  in  a  deep  valley,  nestled  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountains,  at  one  end  of  which  is  the 
famous  grotto,  in  which  a  young  girl  of  the  village  is  said 
to  have  received  some  years  ago  a  visit  from  the  Virgin 
Mary !  She  told  her  story  to  her  family  and  neighbors, 
who  went  to  see  the  heavenly  visitant,  but  saw  nothing. 
Nevertheless,  the  girl,  when  she  went  alone,  was  favored 
with  repeated  interviews.  Such  was  her  story,  to  which 
she  adhered  till  she  died.  For  a  time  it  passed  as  a  child's 
tale.  But  at  length*  it  dawned  on  the  minds  of  some 
priests — whether  cunning  or  credulous  I  will  not  presume 
to  say — that  here  was  the  nucleus  for  a  great  revival  of 
faith ;  and  accordingly  the  miraculous  visitation  was  de- 
clared to  be  authentic,  and  the  devout  flocked  to  the  spot 
in  great  numbers.  In  the  first  six  months  there  were  a 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  pilgrims.  In  a  few  years  there 
rose  over  the  grotto  a  stately  church,  which,  large  as  it  is, 
was  all  too  small  for  the  multitudes  who  came  from  all 
parts  of  Europe  to  obtain,  not  only  spiritual  grace,  but 
"  gifts  of  healing."  The  grounds  about  it  were  laid  out 
like  those  of  a  large  watering-place,  which  must  provide 
for  the  influx  of  a  multitude  without  number.  When  there 
is  a  great  pilgrimage,  the  enthusiasm  rises  to  a  pitch  of 
wild  excitement.  The  church  is  crowded  at  all  hours  of 
the  day,  and  far  into  the  night.  All  the  approaches  are 
blocked  up,  and  not  unfrequently  the  hillside  is  covered 
with  a  dense  mass  of  kneeling  pilgrims.  The  scene  is 
very  impressive,  especially  at  night,  when  a  vast  proces- 
sion moves  up  the  hill,  bearing  lights  and  singing  hymns 


16  THE  CHURCH. 

with  a  spirit  that  is  thrilling.  Dr.  Vincent,  in  his  charm- 
ing volume  "  In  the  Shadow  of  the  Pyrenees,"  says  that 
he  was  himself  so  moved  that  he  joined  the  swelling  chorus 
that  waked  the  echoes  of  the  hills. 

Of  all  this  I  saw  nothing,  for  "  the  season "  was  over, 
the  pilgrims  had  come  and  gone  ;  but  the  church  was 
there,  a  visible  sign  of  the  devotion  that  "  the  visitation " 
has  inspired.  As  I  approached  the  door,  a  couple  of  women 
dressed  in  black  (who  seemed  to  disguise  their  occupation 
as  beggars  by  assuming  the  dress  of  a  Sisterhood)  appealed 
in  a  whining  tone  for  alms,  offering  "  to  light  a  candle  for 
me  "  (of  which  they  had  a  dozen  in  their  hands)  "  before 
the  shrine  of  the  Virgin."  Preferring  to  get  whatever 
spiritual  benefit  there  might  be  for  myself,  I  entered  and 
found  the  large  church  richly  decorated,  its  arches  hung 
with  banners,  and  its  walls  literally  covered  with  inscrip- 
tions of  gratitude  for  miraculous  deliverances.  When  the 
flood-tide  of  pilgrims  is  at  its  height,  the  press  is  relieved 
in  part  by  an  overflow  from  the  church  into  the  crypt 
below,  where  there  are  numerous  altars  at  which  masses 
are  being  constantly  said,  and  confessionals  at  which  priests 
are  hearing  penitents  and  giving  absolution.  But  with 
all  this  squeezing  together  of  compact  masses  of  humanity, 
the  space  is  so  utterly  inadequate  that  the  faithful  are  now 
building  another  church,  not  in  place  of  the  old,  but  in 
addition  to  it.  It  stands  in  front  of  the  former,  but  as  it  is 
on  a  lower  level,  does  not  hide  it  from  view.  Circular  in 
shape,  it  is  set  within  the  wide-embracing  arms  of  two  im- 
mense flights  of  steps  that  sweep  round  the  hill,  leading  to 
the  church  above.  The  walls  are  of  great  thickness,  which, 
with  the  massive  pillars,  will  support  a  dome  like  that  of 
the  Pantheon  in  Kome,  through  which  the  dim  light  will 
fall  on  thousands  of  pilgrims  kneeling  on  the  ample  pave- 
ment, and  making  the  arches  ring  with  their  Ave  Marias. 


THE  GROTTO.  17 

After  seeing  the  church,  I  asked  the  way  to  the  grotto, 
when  a  young  priest  who  was  about  to  visit  it  offered  to 
conduct  me.  As  we  passed  the  door,  he  dipped  his  hand 
in  the  holy  water  and  extended  it  to  me.  I  awkwardly 
gave  him  the  back  of  my  hand,  but  he  still  held  his  hand 
suspended,  when  I  turned  to  him  an  open  palm,  and  re- 
ceived the  sacred  touch  upon  one  of  my  finger-tips.  I 
hope  it  did  me  good.  In  the  grotto  only  a  few  were 
kneeling,  but  evidently  with  the  most  fervent  devotion. 
It  was  hung  with  crutches  cast  away  by  the  cripples,  whose 
limbs  had  been  miraculously  restored.  I  looked  on,  of 
course,  with  proper  respect,  and  as  I  turned  away  took 
one  of  the  tin  cups  that  are  placed  below  the  fountain 
for  the  service  of  pilgrims,  and  drank  of  the  water.  It 
was  pure  and  sweet,  like  that  of  one  of  our  New  England 
springs  "  that  run  among  the  hills,"  though  I  did  not  de- 
tect in  it  any  miraculous  virtue,  nor  feel  made  in  any  wise 
stronger  or  better  by  it.  Nor  could  I  discover  why  any- 
body should  drink  it  so  eagerly,  or  carry  it  away,  as  hav- 
ing an  efficacy  which  no  other  "  waters  of  Israel "  could 
supply.  And  yet  it  is  regularly  bottled  up  like  any  min- 
eral water,  Vichy  or  Apollinaris,  and  sent  to  all  parts  of 
the  world.  Evidently  "  the  business  "  is  "  worked  for  all 
it  is  worth." 

Looking  at  it  as  religious  worship,  one  is  struck  with  the 
way  in  which  all  homage  and  adoration,  as  well  as  thanks- 
giving, is  made  to  centre,  not  in  God  nor  in  Christ,  but  in 
the  Virgin  Mary,  to  whom  every  inscription  is  addressed, 
with  thanks  for  spiritual  grace,  or  for  restoration  from 
some  incurable  malady.  The  repetition  of  this  form  of 
pious  devotion  strikes  a  Protestant  painfully,  as  if  she 
were  the  only  source  through  which  blessings  from  God 
could  be  obtained.  He  who  is  the  everlasting  Son  of  the 
Father,  is  put  quite  in  the  background,  if  not  entirely  for- 


IS  HOMAGE  TO  THE  VIRGIN. 

gotten,  in  the  chorus  of  supplication  and  of  thanksgiving 
to  His  human  mother.  After  reading  these  inscriptions  to 
satiety,  it  was  a  relief  to  leave  the  church,  and  climb  the 
neighboring  hill,  which  is  surmounted  by  a  colossal  cruci- 
fix, on  which  appears  the  body  of  our  Lord.  Here  at 
least  was  something  which  spoke,  not  of  Mary,  but  of  her 
greater  Son;  and  looking  up  to  that  Divine  SufiV 
found  myself  repeating  with  an  energy  made  more  intense 
by  tike  contrast  with  the  Are  Marias  in  the  church  below  : 

"  Jesus,  LoTer  of  my  soul, 
Let  me  to  Thy  bosom  fly!" 

I  haTe  no  wish  to  speak  lightly  of  the  faith  of  ai 
my  fellow-beings.  So  long  as  it  gives  comfort  to  any  poor, 
stricken  human  heart,  let  them  keep  it  and  enjoy  it  Yet 
if  asked  what  I  think  of  all  this,  I  must  say  in  all  frank- 
ness that  it  seems  to  me  the  extreme  of  superstition,  found- 
ed on  a  tale  as  absurd  as  ever  imposed  on  the  credulity  of 
mankind.  Yet  as  Macaulay  well  argues,  beliefs  in  the 
supernatural  are  not  subject  to  the  ordinary  rules  of  evi- 
dence, and  men  of  intelligence  who  use  their  understand- 
ing in  their  business  affairs,  wifl  accept  without  question 
the  most  childish  tales,  and  proceed  to  construct  on  them 
a  system  of  religious  faith. 

"But  the  bodily  healings,  the  wonderful  cures,  what 
hare  you  to  say  to  these  ?  tf  I  have  nothing  to  say  to  them 
until  I  know  more  about  them,  or  can  know  without  some 
personal  investigation.  I  certainly  do  not  accept  the 
stories  toid  by  the  invalids  themselves,  for  there  is  nothing 
on  which  men  and  women  are  more  liable  to  be  dev 
than  their  own  bodily  condition.  It  is  hard  to  set  limits 
to  the  power  of  the  mind  over  the  body.  A  sudden 
emotion  of  fear  may  stop  the  action  of  the  heart  so  as  to 
cause  instant  death  without  a  blow,  or  any  apparent  cause, 
external  or  internal  So  a  powerful  action  of  the  mind. 


PAMTFUL  IMPRESSION.  19 

a  strong  hope  of  relief,  may  produce  such  a  reaction  upon 
the  system  as  shall  have  a  restoring  power  that  might 
almost  bring  the  dead  to  life.  All  this  is  feMttfJi^r  to  pity* 
sicians,  and  involves  no  miracle  whatever. 

Further,  there  in  something  very  revolting  in  the  way  in 
which  the  whole  thing  is  turned  into  a  speculation.  It  has 
become  the  business  of  the  town.  It  brings  pilgrims  by 
tens  of  thousands  into  the  little  place  every  year,  who 
depart  leaving  large  sums  of  money  behind  them.  And 
the  priests  who  flock  to  the  scene,  find  it  a  convenient 
means  of  restoring  the  faith  that  was  growing  weaker  and 
weaker.  Thus  the  whole  affair  is  managed  apparently 
with  a  double  purpose  :  with  the  cool  calculation  of  busi- 
ness, and  all  the  resources  of  superstition. 

On  the  whole,  the  impression  was  very  painful  Not 
only  did  it  not  strengthen  my  religious  faith,  but  it  pro- 
voked a  reaction,  which  tended  strongly  to  throw  me  into 
a  state  of  unbelief.  If  anything  could  make  me  a  skeptic, 
it  would  be  to  witness  such  scenes  as  this.  As  I  turned 
away,  I  had  to  struggle  anew  against  doubts,  from  which  I 
could  recover  only  by  confessing  :  "  Lord,  I  believe :  help 
Thou  mine  unbelief"  ;  and  as  I  rode  back  to  Pau,  won- 
dering at  all  that  I  had  seen,  I  could  but  fear  that  it  should 
make  me  a  worse  rather  than  a  better  man  ;  and  again  and 
again  did  I  whisper  to  myself :  "  O  my  God !  in  this  dark- 
ness and  tumult  of  the  mind ;  and  in  all  the  doubts  and 
fears  that  beset  this  mortal  state ;  let  me  never  fall  from 
Thee!" 


CHAPTEE  H. 
BIARRITZ— CROSSING  THE  BORDER. 

"  In  that  sunny  corner  where  the  waves  of  the  Bay  of 
Biscay  wash  over  a  sandy  barrier,  and  mingle  with  the 
waters  of  the  Bidassoa  stream  "  (so  begins  a  recent  novel, 
the  scene  of  which  is  laid  in  Pau),  "  they  tell  the  ancient 
story  that  a  favored  mortal  won  from  the  gods  permission 
to  ask  three  blessings  for  Spain.  He  asked  that  her  sons 
should  be  brave,  her  daughters  beautiful,  and  her  govern- 
ment good.  The  first  two  were  granted,  but  the  third 
refused  :  for,"  said  the  answer,  "  already  she  is  an  earthly 
paradise,  and  were  this  last  blessing  hers,  the  very  gods 
themselves  would  desert  Elysium,  and  go  down  to  dwell 
in  Spain." 

Leaving  this  pretty  fancy  to  take  care  of  itself,  I  was 
content,  having  left  Pau  in  the  morning,  to  find  myself  in 
the  afternoon  "  in  that  sunny  corner  of  the  Bay  of  Biscay," 
which  seems  to  unite  all  the  charms  of  land  and  sea. 
Having  to  wait  some  hours  at  Bayonne  for  the  train  which 
was  to  bring  me  into  Spain,  I  took  a  carriage  and  drove 
out  five  miles  on  a  long,  straight  avenue  to  Biarritz — 
n,  sheltered  nook,  that  looks  out  upon  a  horizon  partly  of 
mountains  and  partly  of  the  sea.  To  the  south  is  the  long 


THE  BAY  OF  BISCAY.  21 

line  of  the  Spanish  coast,  piled  with  mountains  as  far  as 
the  eye  can  reach,  while  in  front  "  the  watery  plain  "  fills 
up  the  foreground  of  the  picture.  It  is  a  rugged  coast, 
even  here  where  we  stand  in  France,  against  which  the 
waves  have  been  beating  for  thousands  of  years,  till  the 
very  rocks  are  honeycombed  with  arches  and  caverns,  into 
which  the  waters  rush  and  roar. 

The  Bay  of  Biscay  has  an  ill  reputation  among  mari- 
ners as  well  as  landsmen.  If  it  be  not  quite  so  vicious  as 
the  British  Channel,  yet  as  there  is  more  of  it,  the  agonies 
it  produces  are  longer ;  so  that  it  has  had,  and  still  has, 
the  maledictions  of  the  tens  of  thousands  who  are  com- 
pelled to  pass  over  it  on  their  way  to  the  Mediterranean. 
The  cause  of  this  is  apparent  at  a  glance  on  the  map. 
The  "Bay"  of  Biscay  is  not  a  land-locked  harbor  like  the 
Bay  of  Naples  or  of  New  York,  but  is  only  partly  enclosed 
by  two  enormous  projections  of  the  Continent,  terminating 
at  Brest  in  France  and  Cape  Finisterre  in  Spain  (the  very 
name  of  which  imports  that  it  was  once  looked  upon  as  the 
end  of  the  habitable  globe),  into  which  powerful  currents 
and  the  western  gales  drive  the  waters  of  the  Atlantic  till 
they  seethe  and  whirl  like  one  vast  maelstrom. 

And  yet  this  tempestuous  Bay,  which  is  the  very  home 
of  storms  and  wrecks,  was  to-day  as  calm  as  any  Summer 
sea,  and  as  I  looked  out  upon  it  from  the  cliffs,  it  seemed 
tranquil  enough  to  tempt  the  most  timid  voyager,  and  as 
I  went  down  to  the  beach,  and  walked  along  the  sands,  its 
waves  came  rippling  gently  to  my  feet. 

With  such  natural  sublimity  and  beauty  all  round  it, 
and  the  sunshine  that  even  in  mid- Winter  lingers  in  this 
"  sunny  corner  of  the  Bay  of  Biscay,"  near  the  very  spot 
where  "  its  waves  mingle  with  the  waters  of  the  Bidassoa 
stream,"  I  do  not  wonder  that  Biarritz  should  have  become 
a  favorite  resort  for  English  families  fleeing  from  the  rigors 


22  THE  VILLA  EUGENIE. 

of  their  northern  climate.  The  great  hotels  perched  on  the 
bluff,  with  their  many  windows  open  to  the  south,  drink  in 
all  the  sunshine  of  the  short  Winter  day,  and  the  shivering 
Britons  feel  a  warmth  which  they  could  not  find  in  their 
own  beloved  but  stormy  islands. 

Biarritz  acquired  its  greatest  celebrity  a  few  years  since, 
as  a  favorite  retreat  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon,  who  was 
wont  to  come  here  at  the  beginning  of  Autumn  and  spend 
the  month  of  September,  during  which  time  the  little  town 
was  the  seat  of  the  French  Government,  when  the  specta- 
cle of  Ministers  and  Ambassadors  arriving  and  departing 
gave  animation  to  its  streets. 

Of  course  the  Villa  Eugenie,  which  bears  the  name  of 
her  for  whose  pleasure  it  was  built,  is  the  point  of  greatest 
interest,  as  it  was  for  the  time  the  centre  of  the  Imperial 
court.  Then  the  place  was  very  animated  and  gay  :  now 
it  is  tenantless  and  desolate.  The  Empress  has  recently 
sold  it  to  a  French  company,  which  proposes  to  turn  it 
into  a  grand  Casino,  and  its  extensive  grounds  into  a 
pleasure  garden.  Entering  the  open  gateway,  I  walked 
along  the  drive,  and  round  to  the  sea  wall  in  front.  Lean- 
ing against  the  parapet,  one  could  not  but  recall  the  figure 
of  the  Emperor,  as  he  stood  often  on  this  very  spot,  looking 
off  upon  the  sea  and  musing  over  his  own  strange  destiny, 
the  curtain  from  which  was  but  half  raised,  for  if  no  man 
then  living  had  had  so  sudden  and  so  great  an  exaltation, 
no  man  was  to  have  a  more  tremendous  fall. 

Except  some  workmen,  there  was  no  one  whom  I  could 
find  about  the  place  but  a  withered  old  woman,  sitting 
inside  the  glass  enclosure  which  curtained  the  front,  turn- 
ing it  into  a  kind  of  conservatory.  Inquiring  if  one  might 
penetrate  within,  she  answered  quickly  "  Oui,  oui,  Mon- 
sieur," and  rising  from  her  chair,  ran  as  fast  as  her  totter- 
ing frame  could  carry  her,  calling  for  her  son,  who  directly 


THE  EMPEROR  RECEIVING  BISMARCK.  23 

appeared  and  took  me  in  charge.  I  counted  it  a  piece  of 
special  good  fortune  that  he  had  nobody  else,  and  there- 
fore did  not  rattle  off  the  set  speech  of  a  guide,  but  gave 
me  full  opportunity  to  indulge  my  propensity  for  asking 
questions,  as  we  walked  deliberately  from  room  to  room. 
This  large  apartment  was  the  grand  salon  :  of  course  but  a 
miniature  of  those  in  the  great  palaces  of  France,  but  still 
of  interest  from  the  crowd  of  courtiers  and  princes  it  had 
once  contained.  In  this  smaller  room  the  Emperor  took 
his  morning  cup  of  coffee  ;  and  here  is  the  dining-hall, 
very  small  compared  with  the  magnificence  of  those  at  the 
Tuileries  or  Versailles,  but  yet  one  into  which  the  first 
statesmen  in  Europe  would  have  counted  it  an  honor  to  be 
invited.  Next  the  guide  led  the  way  into  the  rooms  set 
apart  for  the  high  personages  of  the  Imperial  household, 
after  which  came  the  ante-rooms  occupied  by  the  officers 
of  the  guard.  All,  though  on  a  diminished  scale,  was  a 
miniature  of  the  Court  in  Paris.  More  interesting  still 
was  the  private  Cabinet  of  the  Emperor.  It  is  but  a  small 
apartment  on  the  ground  floor,  but  what  a  tale  its  walls 
could  tell !  Here  he  received  the  representatives  of  all  the 
crowned  heads  of  Europe.  Here  Bismarck  came,  it  is 
said,  to  whisper  soft  flatteries  in  the  Imperial  ear,  to  pro- 
pitiate the  favor  of  the  master  of  France,  and  especially  to 
sound  him  as  to  the  course  he  would  be  likely  to  take  in 
the  event,  which  the  great  Minister  saw  to  be  coming,  of 
war  between  Prussia  and  Austria.  Once  again  he  came  in 
1869,  perhaps  with  a  presentiment  of  another  struggle 
nearer  and  deadlier  than  the  former.  Never  was  an  Em- 
peror more  completely  deceived.  At  that  time  he  felt  that 
he  was  master  of  the  destinies  of  Europe.  Little  did  he 
dream  that  the  very  next  year — in  1870 — the  battle  of 
Sedan  would  throw  him  into  the  hands  of  the  very  power 
that  now  courted  him,  and  that  he  would  need  to  ask  of 


24  FATE  OF  THE  EMPEROR  AND  HIS  SON. 

this  Prussian  Minister  to  make  terms  for  his  own  sur- 
render ! 

Did  he  have  any  presentiment  of  his  fall  ?  Did  such  a 
thought  ever  trouble  him  in  his  dreams  ?  Such  questions 
suggest  themselves  as  we  enter  his  sleeping  apartment. 
Did  he  rest  in  tranquil  security,  or  did  he  sometimes  rise 
from  a  troubled  sleep,  go  to  the  window  and  look  out  upon 
the  sea,  and  see  in  it  the  type  of  his  own  stormy  life  that 
was  to  end  in  shipwreck  and  disaster  greater  than  he  could 
have  imagined  in  his  gloomiest  hours  ? 

Surely  no  such  forebodings  entered  the  private  apart- 
ments of  the  Empress,  who  at  Biarritz  as  at  Paris  drew  all 
eyes  by  her  queenly  presence  and  marvellous  beauty,  while 
the  air  of  graciousness  which  seemed  natural  to  the  perfect 
Spanish  lady  that  she  was,  captivated  all  hearts. 

But  here  is  something  of  still  more  tender  interest,  the 
suite  of  rooms  set  apart  for  the  Prince  Imperial.  This 
was  his  private  cabinet,  the  furniture  of  which  is  unchang- 
ed. These  are  the  very  chairs  on  which  he  sat.  On  this 
long  divan  against  the  wall,  no  doubt  he  threw  himself 
down  a  hundred  times  as  he  came  in  from  his  rides,  his 
studies,  or  his  amusements,  a  tired  but  happy  boy.  On 
that  pillow  he  rested  his  head,  sleeping  the  sound  sleep  of 
youth  and  health,  of  innocence  and  peace.  To  him  the 
world  of  care  was  as  yet  all  unknown.  What  were  his 
boyish  dreams  ?  Of  home  and  love  and  happiness.  Did 
any  shapes  ever  arise  out  of  the  sea  to  affright  him  with 
horror?  Certainly  none  which  could  have  pictured  him 
in  far-off  Africa,  dying,  not  even  on  a  field  of  battle,  but 
speared  to  death  by  the  assegais  of  Zulus ! 

If  one  is  seeking  for  a  place  to  moralize,  it  would  be 
hard  to  find  one  more  sadly  suggestive  than  this  Villa 
Eugenie,  standing  on  the  seashore,  once  so  brilliant  with 
the  gaieties  of  a  court,  but  now  deserted.  Its  silent  walls 


MY  AMERICAN  FRIEND  AND  GUIDE.  25 

preach  a  sermon  more  eloquent  than  ever  was  heard  from 
the  pulpit  on  the  emptiness  of  human  hopes  and  ambi- 
tions. Vanity  of  vanities  !  all  is  vanity ! 

Keturning  to  Bayonne,  I  found  at  the  station  waiting 
for  me,  Kev.  William  H.  Gulick  of  San  Sebastian.  The 
name  of  Gulick'  is  an  honored  one  in  the  annals  of  Ameri- 
can missions.  His  father  was  a  missionary  before  him, 
and  he  was  born  in  the  Sandwich  Islands,  where  he  was  a 
companion  in  boyhood,  a  playmate  and  schoolmate  of  my 
friend  General  Armstrong  of  Hampton,  Va.  Several  of 
his  brothers  are  now  engaged  in  missionary  work  in  Japan, 
while  he,  having  spent  some  time  in  South  America,  where 
he  acquired  the  Spanish  language,  was  chosen  for  similar 
work  in  Spain.  Here  he  has  been  for  fifteen  years.  Speak- 
ing the  language  like  a  Spaniard,  he  has  kindly  consented 
to  accompany  me  in  my  wanderings  through  the  Peninsula. 

An  hour  from  Bayonne  brings  us  to  the  Bidassoa,  which 
is  but  a  narrow  stream  ;  indeed  we  hardly  know  when  we 
pass  over  it,  so  quickly  is  it  crossed,  and  we  are  in  Spain ! 

I  did  not  need  anybody  to  tell  me  this,  as  I  perceived  it 
instantly  by  the  new  language  that  greeted  my  ears.  How 
strange  it  seems,  in  crossing  an  invisible  line,  to  lose  one's 
power  of  speech,  by  losing  his  power  of  making  himself 
understood.  An  hour  ago  I  was  a  man  among  men  :  I 
looked  in  the  face  of  a  stranger,  and  asked  him  a  civil 
question,  and  received  a  polite  answer.  But  now  I  ask  a 
railway  official  when  the  train  goes,  and  he  looks  at  me 
blankly,  as  if  I  had  dropped  down  from  the  moon.  Alas, 
I  am  no  longer  in  mine  own  country,  nor  in  any  that  I 
have  visited  before.  One  thing  I  have  discovered  already 
— that  Spaniards  do  not  know  how  to  pronounce  their  own 
language.  For  instance,  there  is  the  grand  old  historic 
city  of  Saragossa — what  Englishman  or  American  docs  not 
know  how  it  ought  to  be  pronounced,  viz  :  as  it  is  written ! 


26  CROSSING  THE  BORDER. 

But  here  they  must  needs  pucker  up  their  lips  into  a  lisp 
and  say  "  Tharagotha  "  !  The  very  letters  of  the  alphabet 
are  twisted  out  of  the  natural  pronunciation,  g  being  pro- 
nounced as  if  it  were  h,  while  h  in  most  words  is  not 
pronounced  at  all !  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  such  a 
perversion  of  human  speech.  Give  me  good,  honest  Eng- 
lish, which  no  doubt  Adam  and  Eve  spoke  in  Paradise, 
and  which  is  to  this  day  sufficient  for  the  intercourse  of 
mankind.  But  if  I  can  neither  speak  nor  understand  this 
very  sonorous  but  to  me  unintelligible  language,  I  have  an 
excellent  interpreter  at  my  side,  who  will  be  both  ears  and 
mouth  to  me  while  I  am  in  this  land  of  the  Moors  and  the 
Visigoths,  until  I  cross  over  into  Africa,  where  with  Eng- 
lish and  French  I  can  once  more  make  myself  understood. 
The  first  town  of  Spain  which  we  enter  as  we  cross  the 
Bidassoa,  is  Irun,  where  the  train  comes  to  a  halt,  and  we 
"  disembark  "  and  are  ushered  into  the  inevitable  Custom 
House,  the  first  sign  of  civilization,  or  the  want  of  it,  in 
every  European  country.  Our  baggage  is  taken  into  the 
station,  and  laid  out  on  long  counters,  to  be  opened  for 
inspection.  We  could  not  complain  of  any  want  of  courtesy 
on  the  part  of  the  officials  :  on  the  contrary,  they  were 
very  polite.  It  was  only  the  detention  which  was  trying, 
for  we  were  very  weary.  But  at  length  all  was  ended,  and 
our  baggage  was  replaced  on  the  train.  But  now  came 
our  first  experience  of  the  Spaniards.  We  soon  found  that 
they  were  unlike  Americans,  in  having  no  sense  whatever 
of  the  value  of  time.  The  inspection  over,  we  were  at 
liberty  to  proceed,  but  nobody  seemed  to  be  in  a  hurry. 
We  took  our  seats  in  the  railway  carriage,  but  the  train 
did  not  stir.  After  long  waiting,  an  attendant  appeared, 
but  only  to  shut  the  door.  After  this  manifestation  of 
energy,  there  was  another  long  pause.  Thus  we  were 
detained  a  full  hour  for  an  examination  which  need  not 


IN  AN  AMERICAN  HOME.  27 

have  occupied  n\ore  than  fifteen  minutes.  However,  as  we 
did  not  mean  to  be  fretted  by  anything,  we  kept  our  good 
humor  ;  but  it  did  seem  a  little  absurd  that  an  hour  later, 
on  arriving  at  San  Sebastian,  the  very  same  ceremony  should 
be  gone  through  with  again  !  Once  more  we  were  all  march- 
ed into  the  station ;  once  more  all  the  trunks,  portmanteaus, 
and  hand-bags  were  spread  out  on  the  long  counter,  the 
trunks  were  unlocked,  and  the  officials  with  unmoved  faces 
went  through  the  solemn  farce  of  a  second  examination.  I 
inquired  the  object  of  this  singular  performance  :  if  there 
were  any  octroi — a  special  municipal  tariff — to  be  paid  on 
coming  into  the  city  of  San  Sebastian.  But  the  answer 
wras  "  No  ;  it  was  only  a  precaution,  to  make  assurance 
doubly  sure."  "When  I  smiled  at  this,  I  was  comforted  by 
hearing  that  it  was  probably  the  last  time  I  should  have 
such  an  experience  in  Spain. 

And  now,  after  these  long  delays,  there  came  a  pleasant 
change,  as  Mr.  Gulick  took  me  directly  to  his  home.  It 
was  delightful  to  be  ushered  into  a  pleasantly-lighted  room, 
where  a  cheerful  fire  was  blazing,  and  to  sit  down  to  a  cup 
of  tea  with  those  whom  I  had  never  seen  before,  but  who 
now  showed  themselves  such  kind  friends.  When  at  last 
(wearied,  but  warmed  and  fed,  and  more  than  all,  cheered 
by  the  presence  of  those  who  spoke  "  the  tongue  wherein 
I  was  born  " )  I  lay  down  to  sleep,  it  was  with  a  grateful 
sense  of  all  the  goodness  that  had  followed  me  hitherto, 
and  that  here,  thousands  of  miles  away,  I  had  found  the 
sweet  security,  the  peace  and  comfort,  of  an  American 
home. 


CHAPTEK 
ROUND    ABOUT   SAN   SEBASTIAN. 

The  treacherous  Bay  of  Biscay !  that  lay  so  fair  beneath 
the  sun,  tranquil  and  smiling,  as  we  looked  out  upon  it 
from  the  cliffs  of  Biarritz !  But  scarcely  had  we  turned 
away  before  it  showed  itself  in  another  mood,  as  if  angry 
that  we  should  escape  ;  heaving  and  moaning  and  mutter- 
ing, with  all  the  signs  of  a  coming  tempest.  No  sooner 
were  we  under  shelter  at  San  Sebastian,  than  the  rain 
began  to  fall — first  to  patter,  and  then  to  pour — accom- 
panied by  the  deep  soughing  of  the  wind  ;  and  in  waking 
moments  all  night  long,  I  heard  the  incessant  dashing  of 
the  waves.  Morning  came,  but  the  storm  did  not  abate. 
On  the  contrary,  it  increased  :  to  the  '  rain  was  added  hail, 
which  beat  upon  the  window-panes.  There  was  an  end  to 
the  projected  excursion  of  that  day. 

But  he  is  a  poor  traveller  who  is  disturbed  by  such  an 
interruption  as  this.  On  the  contrary,  he  ought  to  wel- 
come it  as  a  grateful  interval  of  rest  from  his  daily  fatigues. 
A  rainy  day  gives  him  sufficient  excuse  (if  he  needs  any) 
for  staying  indoors,  "  writing  letters  home  " — the  pleasant 
duty  that  comes  so  naturally  when  in  "  a  home,"  with 
kindly  faces  passing  in  and  out,  and  a  hum  of  friendly 


WALK  HOUND  THE  BAY.  29 

voices,  like  an  undertone  of  music,  giving  a  sense  of  quiet 
happiness  to  one's  thoughts,  while  not  disturbing  their 
even  flow. 

In  the  afternoon  the  storm  lulled  so  that  Mr.  Gulick 
took  me  out  for  a  walk  round  the  bay.  The  rain  had 
ceased,  but  the  wind  still  "  blew  great  guns,"  and  one  or 
two  small  vessels,  which  had  tried  to  enter  the  harbor, 
were  now  apparently  trying  to  work  off  from  it,  as  it  is 
too  open  to  the  sea  to  furnish  a  sure  anchorage,  so  that 
not  infrequently  ships  are  wrecked  where  they  had  seemed 
to  be  quite  safe.  But  the  sea  was  magnificent,  dashing 
high  on  the  rocks,  and  the  air  was  fresh  and  bracing  as 
we  strode  along  the  shore.  And  now  I  perceived,  as  I 
had  not  before,  the  exquisite  beauty  of  this  little  bay,  to 
which  they  give  the  name  of  the  "  Concha  "  (or  shell),  so 
perfect  is  the  arc  which  curves  round  it,  the  two  outer 
points  of  which,  towards  the  sea,  are  marked,  one  by  a 
small  island  on  which  stands  the  lighthouse,  and  the  other 
by  a  hill  five  hundred  feet  high,  which  is  crowned  by  an 
ancient  Castle.  The  beach  is  perfect  for  bathing,  as  the 
water  is  not  deep  and  the  sand  soft  to  the  feet.  This, 
with  its  other  attractions,  has  made  San  Sebastian  the 
chief  watering-place  for  the  North  of  Spain  ;  and  here  in 
the  lieat  of  Summer  may  be  seen  a  large  representation  of 
the  fashionable  wrorld  of  Madrid — "  grandees  "  and  grandes 
dames,  on  the  sands,  getting  health  from  the  salt  sea  and 
the  bracing  air. 

In  the  good  old  days  of  the  late  Queen  Isabella,  this  was 
her  favorite  Summer  resort,  to  which  she  came  for  the 
benefit  of  the  sea-air  and  sea-bathing.  Nor  was  it  any 
drawback  to  her  royal  pleasure  that  in  taking  her  sea- 
baths  she  was  sometimes  exposed  "  in  the  dazzling  light 
of  publicity"  to  the  curious  gaze  of  her  faithful  people. 
To  tell  the  truth,  she  was  never  "  backward  in  coming  for- 


30  QUEEN  ISABELLA. 

ward,"  but  was  ready  to  exhibit  herself  at  all  sorts  of 
places,  at  all  sorts  of  times,  and  in  all  sorts  of  costumes. 
One  who  saw  her  often  at  Santander,  where  she  spent  a 
Summer,  described  to  me  the  public  way  in  which  she 
took  her  baths.  At  a  certain  hour  every  morning  she 
rode  down  to  the  shore,  where  a  crowd  was  assembled  to 
see  her.  When  she  put  on  her  bathing  suit,  as  she  is 
very  stout,  the  costume  which  clung  to  her  portly  person 
did  not  show  her  to  the  best  advantage,  and  she  did  not 
look  exactly  like  a  sea-nymph.  But  undismayed  at  her 
appearance,  she  marched  bravely  to  the  water,  her  phy- 
sician at  her  side  to  feel  of  her  pulse  before  she  took  her 
first  dip,  and  then,  like  Cassius, 

"Accoutred  as  she  was,  she  plunged  in." 

As  she  was  a  good  swimmer,  her  very  size  perhaps  aiding 
her  to  float  more  easily,  she  disported  herself  in  the  surf 
like  a  mermaid.  After  a  sufficient  time  she  came  out,  and 
extending  her  arm  to  the  physician,  who  felt  of  her  pulse 
and  pronounced  her  all  right,  walked  majestically  through 
the  crowd  and  departed.  This  does  not  seem  to  republic- 
ans like  a  very  dignified  exhibition  of  royalty ;  and  yet, 
after  all,  it  is  only  a  reproduction  in  modern  times  of  what 
was  considered  quite  the  proper  thing  two  hundred  years 
ago,  when  Louis  XIV.  at  Versailles  not  only  ate  his  break- 
fast, but  took  his  medicine,  in  public,  in  the  presence  of  his 
wondering,  if  not  always  admiring,  people.  In  the  pres- 
ent case,  no  doubt  the  exhibition  delighted  the  exhibitor 
as  much  as  it  entertained  the  spectators.  So  much  was 
Isabella  accustomed  to  this  display  of  herself,  that  she 
would  probably  have  been  very  much  chagrined  if  she  had 
been  obliged  to  take  her  daily  bath  in  private.  A  queen — 
at  least  such  a  queen — must  always  be  on  exhibition  on 
land  or  sea,  in  the  water  or  out  of  it. 


THE  OLD  CASTLE.  31 

In  another  walk  at  San  Sebastian,  we  climbed  the  Castle 
hill,  ascending  by  a  zigzag  road  which  winds  round  and 
round  till  it  ends  on  the  highest  plateau,  from  which  we 
ascend  to  the  very  roof  of  the  castle,  that  commands  a 
view  of  land  and  sea  quite  equal  to  that  from  Biarritz. 
The  whole  line  of  the  horizon  is  piled  with  mountains, 
from  the  Pyrenees  on  the  east,  till  the  mighty  chain  sinks 
away  in  a  blaze  of  glory  against  the  golden  sky  where  the 
sun  is  going  down.  The  castle,  w^hich  is  many  centuries 
old,  has  borne  its  part  in  many  wars.  As  San  Sebastian 
is  so  near  the  frontier  of  France,  it  comes  in  the  track 
of  contending  armies,  forcing  their  way  northward  or 
southward.  In  1813,  when  Wellington  had  driven  the 
French  to  the  very  border,  they  still  held  this  town  and 
the  castle  above  it,  which  from  its  great  height  seemed  to 
defy  assault.  But  the  English  -were  not  to  be  daunted  by 
any  obstacle  ;  they  were  ready  to  attack  any  position,  even 
though  it  were  almost  in  the  clouds  ;  and  so  they  climbed 
the  heights  in  face  of  the  fire  from  above,  bayoneting  the 
men  at  the  guns,  and  carried  the  castle  by  storm.  Of 
course  many  fell  in  the  desperate  charge,  and  were  buried 
on  the  green  hillside,  where  their  graves  may  still  be  seen. 
Standing  on  that  dizzy  eminence  and  looking  down  to  the 
depth  below,  it  seemed  utterly  impossible  that  flesh  and 
blood  could  surmount  such  barriers  held  by  a  garrison  of 
three  thousand  men,  and  I  could  only  explain  it  by  the 
fact  that  the  English  commander  had  gained  a  series  of 
victories  which  inflamed  the  courage  of  his  men  to  such  a 
pitch  that  they  would  have  stormed  the  Alps,  while  suc- 
cessive defeats  had  disheartened  their  adversaries.  There 
are  no  braver  troops  in  the  world  than  the  French,  and 
yet  none  are  more  easily  demoralized  when  they  see  that 
the  battle  is  going  against  them.  In  the  late  German  war 
they  were  so  dispirited  by  the  first  defeats  that  they  never 


32  TAKEN  BY  WELLINGTON. 

recovered  from  them.  They  were  no  longer  the  soldiers 
that  under  the  First  Napoleon  had  overrun  Europe,  and 
towards  the  last  it  seemed  as  if,  when  drawn  up  in  martial 
array,  they  were  ready  to  surrender  before  the  battle  was 
begun.  The  same  demoralization  overtook  them  near  the 
close  of  the  Peninsular  war,  or  surely  they  would  not  have 
yielded  a  position  which  by  nature  is  as  strong  as  Quebec, 

It  is  a  pity  that  the  glory  won  by  the  British  on  that 
day,  should  have  been  tarnished  t  by  their  conduct  in  the 
hour  of  victory.  But  the  fact  remains  that  they  got  so 
drunk  (not  with  glory,  but  with  rum),  that  they  set  fire  to 
the  town,  and  the  greater  part  of  it  was  burned  to  the 
ground.  This  was  such  a  mortification  to  their  proud 
commander,  as  to  take  away  much  of  the  satisfaction  which 
he  derived  from  the  great  military  achievement. 

All  this  seems  very,  very  far  away,  almost  like  ancient 
history,  although  a  gentleman  of  this  place  who  is  eighty 
years  old,  tells  me  that  he  remembers  distinctly,  when  a 
boy,  seeing  the  French  soldiers  in  a  town  not  far  from  San 
Sebastian,  to  which  his  father  had  taken  his  family  that 
they  might  be  in  a  place  of  safety  out  of  the  track  of  war. 

More  than  half  a  century  after  Waterloo,  indeed  less 
than  twenty  years  ago,  in  1868,  San  Sebastian  saw  the  end 
of  a  revolution,  when  Queen  Isabella,  who  was  taking  her 
royal  pleasure  at  this  sea-side  resort,  received  a  message 
from  Madrid  that  she  need  not  return  to  her  capital.  The 
Spanish  people  had  had  enough  of  her  :  they  were  scan- 
dalized by  her  immoral  life,  while  she  left  the  country  to 
be  ruled  by  the  worst  of  Ministers  ;  and  they  thought  they 
could  dispense  with  her  presence,  and  gave  her  perpetual 
leave  of  absence.  Her  last  night  in  Spain  was  spent  in  the 
large  house  on  the  corner  opposite  our  windows,  and  the 
next  morning  she  was  politely  escorted  down  this  very 
street  to  the  station,  weeping  bitterLy  over  the  sad  fate 


THE  BASQUES.  33 

which  had  overtaken  her.  Thence  it  is  but  an  hour's 
ride  to  the  frontier,  where  she  was  delivered  to  the  hospi- 
table attentions  of  the  French  authorities.  The  house  has 
since  been  turned  into  a  hotel,  at  which  many  of  our 
American  friends  have  stayed  when  in  San  Sebastian, 
among  others  Dr.  and  Mrs.  K.  D.  Hitchcock,  who  slept 
more  tranquilly  than  the  haughty  Queen  the  night  before 
she  left  her  kingdom. 

Since  the  accession  of  her  son  Alfonso,  the  poor  old 
Queen  has  been  considered  harmless,  and  been  allowed  to 
return,  and  the  very  parties  that  sent  her  away,  go  down 
to  the  station  to  bid  her  welcome  to  the  kingdom  which  is 
no  longer  hers. 

But  the  most  interesting  study  in  this  part  of  Spain,  is 
the  people.  We  are  now  in  the  Basque  Provinces,  among 
those  who  are  not  Spaniards  in-  race  nor  in  language. 
Who  are  they  ?  And  where  did  they  come  from  ?  These 
are  questions  that  many  books  have  been  written  to  deter- 
mine. The  Romans  found  them  here  ;  and  nowhere  in 
all  their  marches  into  new  countries,  not  even  in  the  for- 
ests of  Germany,  did  they  find  a  people  whom  it  was 
harder  to  fight,  or  more  impossible  to  subdue.  From 
that  day  to  this  they  have  clung,  like  the  Swiss,  to  their 
mountains  with  an  unconquerable  love  of  liberty.  Their 
country  is  a  portion  of  Spain,  and  yet  they  have  pre- 
served a  greater  degree  of"  independence  than  any  other 
part  of  the  kingdom.  They  have  always  enjoyed  peculiar 
privileges,  and  even  to  this  day,  under  a  monarchy,  the 
Basque  Provinces  form  what  is  virtually  a  little  republic, 
managing  their  own  affairs  in  their  own  way.  This  right  is 
secured  to  them  by  a  compromise  with  the  general  govern- 
ment, by  which  they  pay,  what  in  England  would  be  called 
"  a  lump  sum,"  $300,000,  as  an  equivalent  for  all  taxation, 
in  consideration  of  which  they  are  allowed  to  govern  them- 


34  MODES  OF  AGRICULTURE. 

selves.  They  have  complete  civil  and  municipal  adminis- 
tration, and  are  free  from  the  intrusions  that  vex  the  souls 
of  other  Spaniards.  No  public  tax-gatherer  darkens  their 
doors.  Whatever  revenue  is  to  be  raised,  is  collected  by 
themselves,  and  I  am  assured  by  the  leading  banker  of 
San  Sebastian,  that  this  is  managed  with  such  true  political 
economy,  by  a  system  of  indirect  taxation,  that  the  people 
do  not  feel  it.  Thus  the  burden  of  government  rests  very 
lightly  on  the  shoulders  of  these  brave  mountaineers. 

We  cannot  but  feel  admiration  for  such  a  people, 
even  though  their  manners  may  not  be  highly  polished, 
and  the  cabins  in  which  they  live  in  the  mountains  may 
not  be  equal  to  the  comfortable  dwellings  of  our  Amer- 
ican farmers.  Their  agricultural  implements  are  of  the 
most  primitive  character.  My  good  neighbors  in  the  coun- 
try would  stand  agape  with  wonder  to  see  their  teams  of 
"  oxen,"  in  which  half  the  oxen  are  cows !  This  is  hard 
on  the  poor  "mooleys,"  that,  after  doing  duty  over  the 
milk-pail,  they  should  be  put  to  this  further  service.  Yet 
so  it  is  that  a  cow  and  an  ox  are  often  harnessed  together  : 
I  say  harnessed,  not  yoked,  for  they  are  not  yoked  at  all, 
this  extraordinary  team  being  lashed  to  the  cart  by 
ropes  wound  about  their  horns  and  heads,  the  whole 
capped  with  a  red  cloth,  which,  if  nourished  in  a  bull-ring, 
would  make  the  bulls  paw  the  dust  and  rush  madly  at 
the  sign  of  blood.  In  keeping  with  the  teams  are  the  carts, 
which  are  so  rudely  constructed  that  the  wheels  make  a 
fearful  squeaking  as  they  go  toiling  up  the  mountains. 
But  this  has  its  domestic  use,  for  it  is  said  that  every  cart 
has  its  own  peculiar  squeak,  so  that  the  good  housewife 
knows  when  her  "  gude  mon  "  is  coming  home ! 

It  seems  strange  that  a  people  so  fond  of  liberty,  and 
so  jealous  of  their  independence,  should  be  arrayed  in 
politics  and  in  war  on  the  side  of  despotism.  And  yet  the 


THE  C  A  RUST  WAR.  35 

Basques  were  the  chief  supporters  of  Don  Carlos  in  the 
late  civil  war,  the  theatre  of  which  was  chiefly  in  this 
Northern  part  of  Spain.  The  explanation  is,  that  he  was 
the  representative  of  the  Ultramontane  party,  and  as  they 
are  devout  Catholics,  they  were  easily  stirred  up  by  the 
priests  to  take  the  side  of  a  Pretender,  who  was  at  once 
the  champion  of  their  Church  and  their  rightful  King. 
He  could  not  have  had  better  soldiers.  If  not  trained  to 
bear  arms,  yet  they  are  all  practised  marksmen,  having 
been  accustomed  from  boyhood  to  the  use  of  firearms ; 
and  when  fighting  in  their  own  country,  where  they  know 
all  the  paths  of  the  mountains,  they  are  almost  invinci- 
ble. Operating  as  guerillas,  they  could  hang  on  the  skirts 
of  an  army,  and  harass  its  movements,  and  thus  slowly 
wear  out  its  strength.  Armed  with  such  irregulars,  be- 
sides his  more  disciplined  troops,  Don  Carlos  fought  over 
all  this  country.  He  did  not  take  San  Sebastian,  though 
he  was  a  long  time  in  sight  of  it,  encamped  on  the  hills 
around,  and  now  and  then  sent  his  shells  into  the  streets. 
Hernani,  which  is  almost  in.  the  suburbs  of  the  city,  was 
more  severely  treated.  Mounting  a  battery  on  a  neigh- 
boring hill,  the  Carlists  opened  fire  on  the  town,  to  which 
the  inhabitants  replied  by  dragging  a  cannon  to  the  top  of 
the  church  tower,  and  firing  from  the  belfry !  But  the 
Town  Hall  was  destroyed.  For  these  ten  years  it  has  lain 
in  ruins,  and  as  we  drove  through  the  place,  we  saw  work- 
men tearing  down  the  ruined  walls,  to  clear  away  the  rub- 
bish and  build  anew. 

The  injury  inflicted  upon  the  country  by  this  civil  war, 
was  beyond  calculation.  Business  was  at  a  standstill ; 
communications  were  interrupted,  railroads  torn  up  and 
stations  burned,  till  we  are  told,  what  seems  almost  incred- 
ible, that  for  nearly  three  years  there  was  no  communica- 
tion between  Spain  and  France  except  by  sea.  A  traveller 


36  MORE  PEACEFUL  SCENES. 

wishing  to  go  from  Madrid  to  Paris,  must  needs  proceed 
to  Santander  on  the  coast,  and  take  a  steamer  for  Bayonne. 
That  a  country  could  survive  such  a  continued  strain  as 
this,  shows  that  it  has  a  prodigious  vitality,  in  spite  of  the 
misgovernment  of  centuries,  of  the  wreck  and  ruin  of  in- 
numerable wars. 

But  times  have  changed,  and  changed  for  the  better  : 

"  Grim-visaged  war  hath  smoothed  his  wrinkled  front." 

We  can  well  spare  some  picturesque  scenes  for  the  sake  of 
public  tranquillity.  If  to-day,  in  passing  through  the 
country,  we  do  not  see  tents  pitched  on  all  these  hills,  and 
the  soldiers  of  two  hostile  armies  in  their  respective  camps, 
we  see  what  is  far  better — a  whole  people  pursuing  their 
occupations,  tending  their  nocks  and  ploughing  their  lands. 
I  had  rather  see  the  little  donkeys  with  their  heavy-laden 
paniers,  than  the  proudest  war-horses  that  ever  bore  Span- 
ish cavaliers  to  battle.  Better  the  song  of  the  reapers  than 
the  ear-piercing  fife  and  the  stirring  drum  ;  better  the 
squeak  of  the  ox-cart  than  the  rumble  of  caissons  of  artil- 
lery !  Yes,  and  there  is  even  a  humbler  exhibition  which 
is  not  ungrateful  to  my  peace-loving  eye.  Every  Monday 
morning  the  women  of  the  country  round  come  into  San 
Sebastian  with  their  little  donkeys  to  get  the  week's  wash- 
ing, which,  after  undergoing  its  purification,  is  hung  out 
to  dry  on  yonder  hillside,  and  those  nether  garments  float- 
ing in  the  wind  are  better  than  all  the  ensigns  of  war 
ever  flung  to  the  breeze !  Happy  the  land  that  is  at  peace ! 
But  leaving  these  grave  subjects  of  peace  and  war,  it  will 
be  a  pleasant  change,  before  we  bid  farewell  to  the  Basque 
Provinces,  to  take  one  more  drive  over  the  surrounding  hills. 
San  Sebastian  is  a  very  convenient  place  from  which  to 
make  excursions.  Go  in  any  direction,  you  will  find  bold 
scenery,  with  quaint  old  towns  nestled  in  deep  valleys. 


FONTARABIA.  37 

Pasajes,  less  than  an  hour's  drive,  is  interesting  to  us  as 
the  little  port  from  which  Lafayette  embarked  for  America. 
Perhaps  he  found  it  not  so  easy  to  embark  from  the  French 
coast,  and  so  took  his  departure  from  the  nearest  port  in 
Spain. 

A  little  farther  away  is  the  old  hamlet  of  Fontarabia, 
situated  on  a  neck  of  land  running  out  to  the  sea,  and 
terminating  in  a  low  hill,  which  is  crowned,  as  such  posi- 
tions were  apt  to  be  in  feudal  times,  by  a  castle  and  a 
church.  The  town,  such  as  it  is,  lies  along  one  narrow 
street,  over  which  the  projecting  eaves  of  the  houses 
almost  touch  each  other.  It  does  not  seem  a  place  for 
much  of  pride  and  splendor.  But  almost  every  house  has 
its  coat-of-arms,  as  a  sign  that  the  place  has  seen  better 
days,  and  on  extraordinary  occasions  it  can  get  itself  up  in 
very  effective  style.  Father  Hyacinthe  happened  to  be 
here  on  the  anniversary  of  the  day  on  which  the  siege  of 
the  place  by  Don  Carlos  was  raised,  which  (miraculous 
combination !)  happened  to  be  on  the  day  of  the  fete  of 
the  Virgin  of  Guadalupe,  the  patron  saint  of  the  place 
(who,  then,  could  doubt  that  it  owed  its  deliverance  to  her 
intercession  ?),  and  common  gratitude  as  well  as  religious 
fervor  demanded  that  the  event  should  be  duly  celebrated, 
as  it  was  with  three  days  of  rejoicing.  The  people  flocked 
in  from  all  the  country  round.  On  the  last  great  day  of 
the  feast,  a  procession  with  waving  banners  crowded  the 
little  street,  and  marched  to  the  church,  where  it  paid  due 
honors  to  the  deliverer  of  the  place  from  siege ;  after 
which  all  mustered  in  the  Plaza,  or  public  square,  and  con- 
tinued the  fete  with  dancing  and  firing  of  guns,  as  if  a  feel- 
ing so  intense  could  not  be  uttered  by  human  voices,  but 
must  find  vent  in  sharp  explosions  ;  and  they  even  dragged 
out  a  little  cannon,  and  banged  away  to  the  glory  of  the 
Virgin  of  Guadalupe  I  And  then,  to  crown  all,  as  the 


38  BORDER-LINE  OF  FRANCE  AND  SPAIN. 

highest  expression  of  Spanish  joy,  they  wound  up  the  day 
with  a  bull-fight !  Surely  human  gratitude  for  divine  mer- 
cies could  no  further  go. 

The  castle,  I  grieve  to  say,  is  in  a  very  tumble-down 
state,  and,  though  it  bears  the  name  of  the  great  Emperor 
Charles  V.,  is  for  sale  !  This  I  mention  privately  for  the 
information  of  any  enterprising  American  who  may  wish 
to  buy.  To  be  more  precise,  I  can  give  the  very  notice 
painted  on  a  board  and  hung  on  the  wall.  Here  it  is  in 
its  exact  type  and  spelling  : 

FOR  SALE 

THIS  ROYAL  PALACE  AND 

CASTLE  OF  THE  EMPEROR 

CHARLES  Y.     APPLI.  FOR  IMFORMATIOMS,  &c. 

But  one  thing  neither  time  nor  decay  can  destroy — the 
wide  expanse  of  view  from  the  top  of  the  castle.  From 
the  roof  one  takes  in  the  border-land  of  France  and  Spain. 
Below  us  is  the  "  sandy  barrier  "  over  which  "  the  waves 
of  the  Bay  of  Biscay  mingle  with  the  waters  of  the  Bidas- 
soa  stream  "  :  for  there  is  the  stream  itself  winding  its  way 
amid  the  sands  to  find  its  path  to  the  sea.  Yonder  pillar 
on  a  sand-bank  which  divides  the  stream,  marks  the  exact 
boundary  between  the  two  countries — a  line  which  it  needs 
no  Colossus  of  Rhodes  to  bestride,  for  any  French  or  Span- 
ish boy  may  stretch  his  little  legs  across  the  space  which 
divides  country  from  country,  on  the  two  sides  of  which 
lie  two  great  nations,  "  enemies  in  war,  in  peace  friends." 


CHAPTEK  IV. 
THE  BIRTHPLACE  OF  IGNATIUS  LOYOLA. 

In  coming  to  Spain,  one  spot  which  I  desired  to  visit 
was  that  where  Ignatius  Loyola  was  born.  I  am  not  a 
hero-worshipper,  and  yet  I  cannot  repress  a  strong  feeling 
in  coming  to  a  place  associated  with  one  who  has  acted  a 
great  part  in  history  ;  and  surely  few  men — priests  or 
kings  or  conquerors — have  had  a  mightier  influence  in 
shaping  the  course  of  human  affairs  than  the  Founder  of 
the  Order  of  Jesuits.  Born  eight  years  after  Luther,  he 
was  the  chief  antagonist  of  the  Great  Reformer,  and  did 
more  than  any  other  man  to  prevent  the  religious  move- 
ment which  had  swept  over  the  North  of  Europe,  from 
sweeping  over  the  South  also. 

Many  years  ago  I  read  in  the  Reviews  of  Sir  James 
Stephens,  which  are,  like  those  of  Macaulay,  a  series  of 
splendid  Historical  and  Biographical  Sketches,  one  on 
"  Ignatius  Loyola  and  his  Associates,"  which  took  strong 
hold  of  my  imagination.  I  read  it  over  and  over  again, 
and  was  enchained  by  the  story  of  one  who  combined  in 
himself  the  Spanish  knight  and  the  spiritual  crusader,  and 
would  have  gone  far  to  see  the  spot  where  he  began  his 
wonderful  career. 


40  RIDE  OVER  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

Ignatius  Loyola  was  "born  in  Azpeitia,  a  little  village  in 
the  North,  of  Spain,  twenty-five  miles  from  San  Sebastian, 
making  it  a  long  day's  journey  (as  it  is  over  a  mountain 
road)  to  go  and  return.  The  weather  did  not  look  promis- 
ing for  the  excursion.  The  day  before  it  had  rained  in 
torrents,  and  the  prospect  was  of  a  like  experience  on  the 
morrow.  But  I  took  heart  from  the  good  old  saying  : 

""When  it  rains,  you  must  do  as  they  do  in  Spain." 
'  'And  how  is  that  ?  "      "  Why,  let  it  rain  !  " 

I  did  my  best  to  guard  against  contingencies  by  engaging 
a  carriage,  the  top  of  which  might  be  opened  or  shut  as 
the  skies  shone  or  lowered,  and — as  I  had  the  promise  of 
good  company  in  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gulick,  and  Miss  Eichards, 
a  teacher  in  their  school — resolved  in  my  secret  mind  not 
to  be  kept  back  by  the  elements  from  what  I  had  so  much 
at  heart. 

The  morning  opened  dark  and  cold,  and  the  clouds 
swept  over  the  hills.  But  we  did  not  mind  it  ;  indeed  our 
spirits  rose  as  we  faced  the  angry  sky.  Our  three  stout 
horses,  harnessed  abreast,  started  off  at  full  speed,  their 
bells  jingling  merrily  as  we  swept  round  the  bay  and  be- 
gan to  climb  the  hills.  As  we  get  farther  into  the  moun- 
tains, the  roadway  has  in  many  places  to  be  cut  into  their 
steep  sides,  or  supported  on  embankments  ;  but  for  all 
that,  it  is  so  hard  and  smooth  that  our  horses  trotted  at  a 
brisk  pace,  and  we  had  the  full  enjoyment  of  the  changing 
views,  as  now  we  looked  down  into  a  deep  valley  among 
the  hills,  and  now  rounded  some  projecting  point  from 
which  we  took  in  a  wide  sweep  of  the  Bay  of  Biscay. 
Though  the  Winter  had  but  just  begun  (it  was  the  second 
of  December),  the  mountain  tops  were  covered  with  snow. 
Now  and  then  the  driving  rain  dashed  in  our  faces.  But 
what  cared  we  ?  We  only  crouched  under  our  canopy, 
which,  as  soon  as  the  clouds  broke  and  the  sun  shone  out, 


AZPEITIA.  41 

the  driver  threw  back,  and  opened  before  us  the  whole 
glorious  panorama  of  mountain  and  sea. 

Four  hours'  drive  brought  us  to  Azpeitia — a  village 
with  one  long  street,  at  the  end  of  which  rises  a  majestic 
pile,  worthy  of  the  name  it  bears,  and  to  perpetuate  to  all 
generations  the  fame  of  Ignatius  Loyola.  In  the  open 
plaza  before  it  stands  a  statue  of  the  saint — a  grand  figure, 
which  is  an  object  of  special  homage  at  the  time  of  the 
year  when  the  place  is  thronged  with  pilgrims.  But  to- 
day, as  wre  approach  the  great  building,  and  ascend  the 
steps,  we  find  them  thronged,  not  with  pilgrims,  but  with 
beggars  of  the  true  Spanish  sort,  squalid  and  importunate, 
who  swarm  upon  us  with  piteous  moans,  asking  for  alms  ; 
but  a  few  pence  quiet  them,  and  we  are  left  to  make  our 
observations  in  peace. 

Turning  to  the  massive  structure  before  us,  we  find  that 
it  serves  a  double  purpose,  including  both  a  church  and  a 
monastery.  The  former  merits  little  attention,  although 
it  is  vast  in  size,  and  of  somewhat  pretentious  architecture. 
It  is  round  in  shape,  following  in  this  its  model,  the  Pan- 
theon at  Home  ;  and  its  lofty  dome  rests  on  enormous  pil- 
lars of  many-colored  marbles,  with  chapels  on  every  side, 
at  which  "  in  the  season  "  masses  are  daily,  almost  hourly, 
said  for  the  innumerable  worshippers. 

But  the  chief  interest  of  the  place  is  in  the  santa  casa, 
or  holy  house,  in  which  Loyola  was  born.  This  remains 
intact,  as  it  is  infused  through  and  through  with  the  odor 
of  sanctity,  which  renders  it  too  precious  to  be  destroyed. 
It  is  therefore  preserved  with  religious  care,  like  one  of 
the  holy  places  in  Jerusalem,  the  monastery  being  built 
over  it  and  around  it,  to  protect  it  with  its  mighty  walls. 

Observing  that  the  latter  was  entered  by  a  door  at  the 
end  of  the  long  vestibule,  we  rang  the  bell,  which  was 
answered  by  the  opening  of  an  aperture  no  larger  than 


42  HOUSE  IN  WHICH  LOYOLA  WAS  BORN. 

a  pane  of  glass  ;  and  to  our  request  for  admission,  a  voice 
replied  that,  as  it  was  the  hour  of  noon,  the  fathers  were 
in  the  refectory  at  their  mid-day  meal,  and  the  convent 
could  not  be  opened  to  visitors  till  one  o'clock. 

At  that  hour  we  rang  again,  and  were  rewarded  by  the 
appearance  of  a  priest,  perhaps  sixty  years  of  age,  who, 
with  the  proverbial  politeness  of  the  Jesuit,  took  us  in 
charge,  and  conducted  us  first  through  the  house  of 
Loyola,  which  remains  just  as  it  was  four  hundred  years 
ago,  when  Ignatius  was  born.  It  is  a  baronial  mansion  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  whose  dimensions  show  that  it  was  built 
for  a  Spanish  grandee.  The  family  of  Loyola  was  one  of 
high  rank  in  Spain,  and  this  house  of  his  father  was  not 
only  a  home,  but  a  castle,  its  walls  being  four  or  five  feet 
thick,  and  loopholed  for  the  firing  of  cross-bows  or  mus- 
ketry, so  that  in  case  of  need  its  lord  might  gather  his 
retainers  within  the  walls,  and  stand  a  siege.  But  what- 
ever military  purpose  it  may  once  have  had,  is  now  entirely 
superseded  by  its  sacred  character,  as  appears  by  the  in- 
scription in  Spanish  over  the  door  : 

CASA  SOLAB  DE  LOYOLA. 

AQFI  NACIO  S.  IGNACIO  EN  1491. 

AQUI  VISITADO  FOB  S.  PEDRO  Y  LA  S.S.  VIBGEN, 

SE   ENTBEJO  A   DlOS  EN   1521. 

FAMILY  HOUSE  OF  LOYOLA. 

HEBE  ST.  IGNATIUS  WAS  BORN  IN  1491. 

HEBE,  HAVING  BEEN  VISITED  BY  ST.  PETEB  AND  BY  THE 

MOST  HOLY  VIBGIN, 
HE  GAVE  HIMSELF  TO  GOD  IN  1521. 

Mounting  the  great  oaken  staircase,  we  come  at  the  first 
landing  to  a  wide  hall,  which  is  furnished  with  confes- 
sional-boxes, where  at  the  time  of  the  annual  pilgrimage 
priests  are  busy  hearing  confessions  and  giving  absolu- 
tions. Doors  open  into  several  rooms?  in  one  of  which  is 


THE  INTERIOR.  43 

a  bust  of  Loyola,  that  shows  as  grand  a  head  as  ever  wore 
a  crown  of  temporal  or  spiritual  dominion. 

The  interest  increases  as  we  ascend  to  the  next  story, 
in  which  are  the  "  living  rooms  "  of  the  family.  In  one  of 
these  is  an  altar,  screened  from  approach  by  an  iron  grat- 
ing, which  marks  the  very  spot  in  which  the  Founder  of 
the  Order  of  Jesuits  was  born.  In  front  of  this  were  sev- 
eral women  kneeling  in  silent  devotion,  which  would  have 
affected  us  the  more  if  their  prayers  had  not  been  united 
with  something  else,  as  appeared  by  their  outstretched 
palms. 

The  good  priest  was  intent  on  gratifying  our  curiosity, 
and  thinking  in  the  kindness  of  his  heart  that  what  inter- 
ested him  must  interest  us,  he  took  us  by  a  private  pass- 
age into  a  room  where  are  kept,  as  sacred  treasures  of  the 
place,  a  choice  collection  of  the  bones  of  saints,  exposed 
to  view  in  glass  cases,  which,  as  they  are  bedecked  with 
flowers,  have  but  a  tawdry  appearance.  Among  these  is 
solemnly  pointed  out,  as  the  most  precious  relic  of  the 
saintly  museum,  a  bone  of  St.  Cecilia !  Such  exhibitions 
of  course  could  excite  no  feeling  but  one  of  pity  at  the 
superstition  which  could  attach  a  virtue  to  such  mouldy 
relics  of  decay.  From  these  we  turned  to  the  personal 
associations  of  the  house  as  alone  having  a  real  interest, 
and  were  all  attention  when  taken  into  the  private  chapel 
of  the  Loyola  family,  where  we  stood  by  the  altar  at  which 
no  doubt  the  child  Ignatius  had  knelt  a  thousand  times 
beside  his  father  and  mother.  Still  closer  do  we  come  to 
him  at  a  later  period  of  his  life,  as  we  are  shown  the  couch 
on  which  he  lay  after  he  was  wounded  at  the  siege  of 
Pampeluna,  and  the  canopy  which  hung  over  him.  The 
priest  took  us  behind  the  scene  which  excluded  ordinary 
pilgrims,  where  under  the  altar  is  a  full-length  figure  of  the 
young  soldier  stretched  upon  his  bed  of  pain,  his  leg  ban- 


44  THE  MONASTERY. 

daged  for  Ms  wound,  and  with  one  hand  raised,  holding  a 
book,  in  which  he  read  and  read  till  his  dreams  of  ambi- 
tion faded  away,  and  he  saw  a  far  higher  sphere  open  be- 
fore him,  and  rose  up  at  last  to  enter  upon  his  marvellous 
career. 

From  the  house  we  passed  into  the  Monastery.  Here 
our  party  had  to  be  divided  :  for  the  ladies  were  not 
allowed  to  accompany  us,  their  sex  not  being  permitted  to 
pass  the  doors  of  so  sacred  a  place.  They  could  only 
saunter  in  the  outer  courts.  But  from  us  men- folks  the 
Jesuit  father  kept  back  nothing,  but  led  us  on  and  on, 
through  court  after  court  and  along  corridor  after  corridor, 
till  we  could  not  repress  our  amazement  at  the  vast  extent 
of  a  structure  begun  two  hundred  years  ago,  and  not  yet 
completed.  There  is  still  an  unfinished  wing,  and  we  found 
to  our  surprise  that  the  holy  place  was  filled  with  the  sound 
of  workmen  in  wood  and  stone  and  iron.  A  large  num- 
ber of  men  were  thus  employed.  These,  as  I  learned, 
were  not  outsiders,  brought  in  for  the  purpose,  but  lay- 
brothers — masons,  carpenters,  and  blacksmiths — who,  hav- 
ing been  seized  with  a  spirit  of  devotion,  take  a  sort  of 
vow  which  constitutes  them  partners  (humble  partners,  it 
may  be,  but  partners  still)  in  the  illustrious  Order  ;  and  if 
they  have  not  learning  or  eloquence  to  give,  they  can  at 
least  devote  themselves,  with  their  handicrafts,  to  the  ser- 
vice of  religion. 

The  general  arrangement  of  this  mass  of  buildings  is 
not  unlike  that  of  the  vast  quadrangle  of  an  English  uni- 
versity. Just  now  we  might  be  in  one  of  the  colleges  of 
Oxford  or  Cambridge.  Indeed  this  Monastery  is  (or  at 
least  includes)  a  College  or  Seminary  for  the  training  of 
candidates  for  the  Order  of  Jesuits,  and  in  its  interior 
does  not  differ  very  much  from  other  institutions  of  learn- 
ing, being  provided  with  ample  class-rooms,  dormitories, 


THE  STUDENTS.  45 

and  refectory.  Peeping  into  the  latter,  we  found  it  neatly 
arranged  with  tables  running  along  the  sides  of  a  large 
oblong  room,  and  furnishing  seats  sufficient  for  the  nearly 
two  hundred  pupils.  That  they  may  not  be  too  light- 
hearted  even  at  their  simple  meal,  they  have  before  them, 
in  a  painting  hung  on  the  walls,  the  grand  figure  of  Igna- 
tius writing  his  "  Spiritual  Exercises."  Yet  his  face  is  not 
bent  upon  a  written  page,  but  turned  upward  as  if  he  were 
listening  to  the  voice  of  One  Unseen ;  while  a  scroll  in  his 
hand  with  the  inscription, 

"  Dictante  Deipara, 
Scribit  et  docet," 

tells  that  he  wrote,  not  from  his  own  wisdom  or  learning, 
but  by  the  dictation  of  the  Virgin  Mother  of  God. 

The  army  of  young  collegians  had  just  finished  their 
light  repast,  and  were  enjoying  an  hour  of  recreation  in 
the  courts  and  corridors,  and  it  was  pleasant  to  see  that 
their  gloomy  surroundings  had  not  killed  out  all  the  youth 
that  was  in  them,  for  they  seemed  to  have  the  freedom 
and  hilarity  of  other  college  boys.  Even  their  teachers 
unbent  themselves  for  the  time,  and  were  walking  about 
with  their  pupils,  whom  for  the  moment  at  least  they  did 
not  try  to  overawe  with  a  sombre  gravity.  It  should  be 
said,  however,  that  these  students  are  not  yet  members  of 
the  Order,  to  which  they  cannot  be  admitted  till  they  have 
pursued  their  studies  for  two  years.  If  at  the  end  of  that 
time  they  are  ready  to  take  the  vows,  they  are  accepted  as 
novitiates  (of  which  there  are  already  eighty  here  out  of 
the  two  hundred),  and  remain  for  two  years  longer  before 
they  receive  their  commands,  appointing  their  place  of  ser- 
vice, from  the  General  of  the  Order  at  Home. 

But  while  the  young  men  in  this  institution  are  like 
young  men  all  over  the  world,  the  training  and  discipline 
to  which  they  are  subjected  is  very  different.  I  was  curi- 


46  A  SPIRITUAL  BASTILLE. 

ous  to  know  whether  the  course  of  study  pursued  was  like 
that  in  a  college  or  university  in  England  or  Germany,  and 
asked  "if  they  taught  any  of  the  modern  sciences"?  to 
which  my  guide  was  obliged  to  reply  in  the  negative. 
The  education  is  wholly  scholastic — Greek  and  Latin,  and 
Christian  (that  is,  Roman  Catholic)  dogmatics.  Anything 
beyond  this  it  is  not  for  them  to  know.  The  world  may 
move  on  ;  vast  discoveries  may  be  made  in  the  realm  of 
nature  ;  but  no  ray  of  light  from  without  is  allowed  to 
penetrate  within  these  walls,  and  banish  this  monastic 
gloom. 

All  this  oppressed  me  with  a  weight  which  I  could  not 
shake  off.  To  the  simple-minded  father  who  had  become 
used  to  this  narrow  round,  as  the  prisoner  becomes  used 
to  his  cell,  it  may  not  have  been  a  burden  greater  than  he 
could  bear.  But  to  one  coming  from  the  outer  world, 
from  the  fresh  air  of  the  hills,  the  place  seemed  like  a 
prison.  With  its  massive  walls ;  with  arches  of  stone  over 
our  heads,  and  pavements  of  stone  under  our  feet ;  with 
the  thick-ribbed  doors  and  grated  windows — I  felt  as  if  I 
were  shut  up  within  some  mighty  Bastille,  a  place  of  con- 
finement not  only  of  bodies,  but  of  souls,  where  men 
wasted  their  lives  in  darkness,  never  to  come  forth  to  see 
the  light  of  day  or  breathe  the  air  of  heaven. 

Perhaps  the  place  would  not  have  looked  so  cheerless 
had  it  been  in  the  heat  of  Summer,  when  the  coolness 
might  have  been  grateful,  and  the  murmur  of  the  foun- 
tains in  the  courts  have  been  a  pleasant  sound  in  our  ears. 
But  it  was  Winter,  and  looking  out  of  the  windows,  I  saw 
the  snow  resting  on  the  mountains,  and  nature  in  its  Win- 
ter dress  seemed  the  fitting  symbol  of  the  icy  and  freez- 
ing system  that  was  here  carved  in  stone. 

With  this  feeling  weighing  on  me  like  a  nightmare,  it 
was  a  relief  to  have  at  last  made  the  round  of  the  Monas- 


TAKING  LEAVE.  47 

tery,  and  to  retire  ;  though  the  good  monk  would  have  us 
see  everything,  and  stopped  us  in  the  last  corridor  to  call 
our  attention  to  the  little  cannon  standing  on  its  head, 
which  is  brought  out  on  fete  days,  that  the  fathers  may 
blaze  away  to  the  glory  of  all  the  saints  ! 

And  so  we  took  our  leave  of  the  kind  old  man,  thank- 
ing him  again  and  again  for  his  courtesy  to  strangers  (he 
would  receive  nothing  but  thanks).  It  was  not  without 
sadness  and  pity  that  we  said  good-bye,  knowing  that 
while  we  came  out  into  the  living  world  again,  he,  as  soon 
as  he  had  shut  the  door  behind  us,  would  go  back  to  his 
solitary  cell. 

As  we  came  out  from  that  Convent  door,  and  stood 
once  more  upon  the  broad  steps  of  the  church,  we  were  in 
a  very  reflective  turn  of  mind,  and  the  scene  around  us 
took  a  new  interest  from  its  association  with  the  great  life 
that  was  here  begun.  The  statue  of  Loyola  in  the  plaza 
seemed  more  majestic  as  we  passed  it  now,  and  a  new 
light  rested  on  the  hills.  Azpeitia  is  set  in  the  lap  of 
mountains.  Before  us  was  the  scene  on  which  the  eyes  of 
Ignatius  rested  when  first  they  were  opened  on  this  world. 
In  yonder  parish  church  he  was  baptized,  at  the  font  which 
still  serves  the  Spanish  mothers,  who  come  in  great  num- 
bers, with  their  infants  in  their  arms,  feeling  that  its 
waters  have  a  special  grace.  When  a  boy,  he  roamed 
among  these  hills,  perhaps  even  then  dreaming  of  great- 
ness, but  with  no  possible  dream  which  could  approach 
the  stupendous  reality.  Before  we  vanish  from  the  scene, 
I  cannot  but  add  some  reflections  on  the  life  and  char- 
acter of  one  who  was  in  some  respects  the  greatest  man 
that  Spain  has  given  to  the  world. 

Ignatius  Loyola  was  thirty  years  old  when,  in  the  words 
inscribed  over  the  door  of  his  house,  he  "  gave  himself  to 
God."  Beneath  the  same  roof  under  which  he  vvas  born, 


48  IGNATIUS  AS  A  SOLDIER. 

lie  was  born  again.      The  story  of  his  conversion  is  as 
strange  as  anything  in  his  wonderful  history. 

When  in  that  old  castle  in  the  Pyrenees  it  was  told  in 
chamber  and  hall  that  a  man-child  was  born  into  the  world, 
no  seer  or  diviner  could  forecast  what  his  future  was  to  be. 
As  a  child  he  was  of  a  singular  beauty,  which  no  doubt, 
combined  with  his  rank,  led  to  his  being  chosen  as  a  page 
in  the  Court  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  in  which  his  grace 
of  person  and  gaiety  of  manners  made  him  an  universal 
favorite.  But  he  soon  developed  higher  qualities.  Those 
were  the  days  when  every  man  of  position  in  Spain  was 
trained  as  a  soldier.  The  war  of  the  Spaniard  and  the 
Moor,  which  had  lasted  for  nearly  eight  hundred  years, 
was  but  just  coming  to  an  end  :  for  it  was  only  the  very 
year  after  Ignatius  was  born  that  Granada  was  taken,  and 
the  Cross  floated  in  place  of  the  Crescent  above  the  towers 
of  the  Alhambra.  But  Spain  had  other  enemies  at  home 
and  abroad,  and  the  profession  of  arms  was  still  the  path- 
way to  glory.  Into  this  path  entered  the  young  Ignatius, 
and  soon  showed  a  courage  and  skill  beyond  his  years, 
which  might  in  time  have  made  him  the  "  Grand  Captain  " 
of  Spain,  if  the  course  of  events  had  not  turned  him  into 
a  far  different  career.  But  while  he  was  a  soldier,  such 
was  the  confidence  in  his  military  ability  that  he  was  cho- 
sen for  the  defence  of  Pampeluna — a  city  in  the  North  of 
Spain  which  was  besieged  by  the  French.  He  defended  it 
bravely,  but  without  success,  and  was  taken  prisoner.  To 
the  chagrin  felt  at  the  loss  of  the  city,  was  added  a  morti- 
fying disaster  to  himself  :  for  he  was  wounded,  and  though 
he  might  not  die,  the  mark  of  his  wound  would  remain. 
So  keenly  did  he  feel  the  injury  to  his  handsome  person, 
that  he  had  himself  stretched  upon  the  rack  that  his 
shapely  limbs  might  be  restored  to  their  former  propor- 
tions. But  this  heroic  treatment  was  not  more  successful 


HE  GIVES  HIMSELF  TO  GOD.  49 

than  his  defence  of  Pampeluna,  and  the  dashing  Spanish 
soldier,  whose  manly  physique  had  made  him  an  object  of 
admiration  in  camp  and  court,  had  before  him  the  pros- 
pect of  being  a  cripple  for  life.  Thus  deformed  as  well  as 
stung  by  defeat,  he  was  carried  back  to  the  old  baronial 
mansion  which  we  have  visited  to-day. 

Man  proposes,  but  God  disposes.  The  disaster  which 
seemed  to  put  a  sudden  end  to  a  brilliant  career,  only 
turned  the  young  soldier  into  one  that  was  far  greater. 
For  months  he  lay  upon  his  couch.  The  time  was  long. 
To  beguile  the  weary  hours,  he  took  to  the  reading  of 
books  of  knight-errantry,  which  were  for  the  most  part 
harrowing  tales  of  ladies  shut  up  by  Bluebeards  in  grim 
castles,  from  which  they  were  rescued  by  the  prowess  of 
gallant  knights — tales  which,  however  childish  they  may 
seem  to  us,  formed  no  small  part  of  the  literature  of  that 
day,  and  took  the  fancy  of  many  a  youth  whose  highest 
ambition  was  to  be  a  hero  of  romance. 

At  length  these  were  exhausted,  and  as  in  those  days 
the  library  even  of  a  Spanish  castle  was  somewhat  meagre, 
nothing  could  be  found  to  entertain  the  wounded  soldier 
but  the  dullest  of  all  reading,  the  Lives  of  the  Saints ! 
Ignatius,  we  can  imagine,  took  them  in  hand  with  but  a 
languid  interest ;  but  as  he  turned  the  pages,  something 
caught  his  eye,  which  began  to  brighten,  and  he  soon 
found  in  these  "Acta  Sanctorum"  a  fascination  greater 
than  in  all  the  tales  of  chivalry.  Knights  gave  place  to 
saints  and  martyrs,  who  in  their  lives  of  self-denial  had 
given  proof  of  a  far  more  splendid  courage  than  was  ever 
shown  by  a  soldier  on  the  field  of  battle.  Often,  as  he 
read,  his  hand  dropped  by  his  side,  and  as  he  leaned  back 
upon  his  pillow,  and  looked  up  at  the  canopy  over  his 
couch  (the  same  which  is  still  shown  in  the  ancient  house), 
he  saw  things  in  a  new  light :  the  life  of  a  soldier,  which 


50  RIGID  SELF-DISCIPLINE. 

he  had  wished  to  live,  seemed  'poor  and  pitiful  in  a  world 
where  there  was  so  much  serious  work  to  be  done,  and 
where  it  was  a  thousand  times  better  to  be  saving  men 
than  to  be  killing  them.  Besides,  if  he  would  still  be  a 
warrior,  there  were  other  fields  of  conflict  and  victory. 
Those  were  days  in  which  there  were  wars  in  the  Church 
as  well  as  in  the  State  ;  and  not  only  Spain,  but  Home,  had 
need  of  brave  defenders.  So  ran  his  thoughts.  While  he 
was  musing  the  fire  burned,  and  he  dreamed  of  what 
might  be  wrought  for  the  Faith.  With  such  an  inspira- 
tion of  hope,  he  renounced  his  former  life,  and  chose  a 
religious  in  place  of  a  military  career. 

Having  thus  taken  a  new  field  for  his  activity,  he  set 
himself  to  prepare  for  it  by  a  rigid  course  of  discipline, 
He  who  would  conquer  others  must  first  conquer  himself. 
In  a  Spaniard  the  last  thing  to  be  subdued  is  "  Castilian 
pride,"  and  of  this  no  man  had  more  than  Loyola,  which 
he  now  set  himself  to  "  bring  under  "  in  the  same  heroic 
temper  with  which  he  had  once  had  his  body  stretched 
upon  the  rack.  He  subjected  himself  to  all  sorts  of  humil- 
iations :  he  wore  the  vilest  raiment,  changing  clothes  with 
a  beggar  ;  and  ate  the  most  loathsome  food,  and  even  this 
he,  the  proud  Spaniard  that  he  was,  did  not  shrink  from 
begging  from  door  to  door. 

When  he  had  so  far  subdued  his  pride  that  he  could 
stoop  to  any  depth  of  humiliation,  he  made  a  pilgrimage 
to  Monserrat,  a  serrated  ridge  of  mountains  near  Barce- 
lona, where  on  a  dizzy  height  stands  a  convent  built  in 
honor  of  a  famous  image  of  the  Virgin.  Within  sight  of 
this  he  lived  for  a  year  in  a  cave,  where  he  lay  upon  the 
ground,  as  if  he  were  indeed  but  a  worm  of  the  dust,  that 
could  not  be  too  abject  before  his  Maker.  It  was  during 
this  long  period  of  solitary  meditation  that  he  wrote  the 
"  Spiritual  Exercises,"  which  were  at  once  the  reflection  of 


TAKING  THE  VOWS.  51 

his  own  experience,  and  were  to  be  the  guide  to  his  fol- 
lowers to  all  generations. 

Having  thus  prepared  himself  for  the  vows  which  he 
wished  to  take,  he  repaired  to  the  shrine  of  the  Virgin  at 
Monserrat,  before  which  he  spent  a  whole  night  in  prayer. 
Here  he  placed  his  sword  reverently  upon  the  altar,  in  token 
that  he  laid  aside  all  his  military  dreams  and  ambitions. 
And  then,  not  only  bending  on  his  knees  and  bowing  his 
head,  but  casting  himself  with  his  face  to  the  earth,  he 
devoted  himself  to  the  service  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  This 
is  something  which  a  Protestant  (who  knows  nothing  of 
the  feeling  of  a  devout  Catholic)  cannot  understand.  He 
cannot  help  a  suspicion  that  in  this  devotion  there  was  a 
little  of  the  same  feeling  which  entered  into  the  heart  of  a 
Spanish  knight  for  the  high-born  lady  who  was  the  object 
of  his  adoration.  It  was  devotion  to  a  woman,  which 
always  kindles  a  certain  ardor  in  a  manly  breast.  This 
may  be  true,  but  beyond  this  there  was  something  more. 
The  Virgin  was  not  only  a  woman,  but  the  type  of  woman- 
hood, the  emblem  of  all  purity  and  spiritual  grace,  the  one 
perfect  being  to  be  presented  to  human  devotion.  And 
further  still,  she  was  the  link  between  divinity  and  human- 
ity— the  mother  of  God,  and  yet  a  human  mother,  with 
all  the  tenderness  that  is  locked  up  in  the  maternal  breast. 
A  suffering  mother,  too,  she  had  been,  the  Mater  Dolorosa, 
and  was  therefore  the  most  sympathetic  of  all  that  ever 
bent  over  suffering  childhood,  or  any  form  of  human  weak- 
ness, on  which  she  looked  down  with  her  great,  tender  eyes, 
in  whose  depths  there  was  an  infinite  love,  an  infinite  pity. 
And  yet  she  who  was  so  human,  was  enthroned  above,  the 
Queen  of  Heaven.  To  this  exalted  being,  purissima,  sanc- 
tissima,  Ignatius,  bending  in  lowly  prostration,  offered  all 
that  he  had  to  give — the  devotion  of  his  heart  and  life. 
As  he  laid  his  sword  upon  her  altar,  he  vowed  to  be  a  sol- 


52  VISIT  TO  JERUSALEM. 

dier  in  lier  cause,  her  champion  and  defender.  However 
the  feeling  may  be  analyzed,  it  was  most  real  and  power- 
ful, and  never  was  there  a  more  determined  act  of  the 
human  will.  Loyola  was  a  man  of  iron,  yet  this  awful  vow 
ruled  him  with  absolute  dominion  through  the  whole  of 
life,  to  its  very  last  hour. 

That  this  act  of  devotion  might  not  be  mere  senti- 
ment, but  serve  in  an  effective  way,  Ignatius  had  been 
meditating  great  projects.  He  had  conceived  the  idea  of 
a  new  Order  that  should  be  more  efficient  than  any  ever 
before  enlisted  in  the  service  of  the  Church,  composed  of 
men  who  should  be  trained  by  the  severest  discipline,  till 
there  was  nothing  which  they  could  not  attempt  or  endure. 
While  brooding  over  his  plans,  he  made  a  pilgrimage  to 
Jerusalem,  and  there,  says  Stephens,  they  "assumed  a 
coherent  form  as  he  knelt  on  the  Mount  of  Olives,  and 
traced  the  last  indelible  imprint  of  the  ascending  Kedeemer 
of  Mankind.  At  that  hallowed  spot  had  ended  the  weary 
way  of  Him  who  had  bowed  the  heavens,  and  come  down 
to  execute  on  earth  a  mission  of  unutterable  love  and 
matchless  self-denial ;  and  there  was  revealed  to  the  pro- 
phetic gaze  of  the  future  Founder  of  the  Order  of  Jesus 
the  long  line  of  missionaries  who,  animated  by  his  exam- 
ple and  guided  by  his  instructions,  should  proclaim  that 
holy  name  from  the  rising  to  the  setting  sun." 

It  was  in  the  design  of  Loyola  to  establish  his  new 
Order  at  Jerusalem,  that  its  members  might  go  forth  from 
the  same  spot  from  which  our  Lord  sent  forth  His  disci- 
ples ;  but  to  this  he  found  unexpected  obstacles,  not  so 
much  in  Moslem  fanaticism,  in  the  intolerance  of  the  Turk, 
as  in  the  jealousy  of  his  own  brethren,  the  Franciscan 
monks,  who,  being  already  in  the  Holy  City,  assumed  the 
right,  by  priority  of  possession,  to  exclude  all  rivals  or 
intruders.  He  therefore  returned  to  Spain,  and  began  his 


SUSPECTED  OF  HERESY.  53 

studies  in  the  University  of  Alcala,  near  Madrid,  where  the 
singularity  of  his  opinions  and  the  rigidness  of  his  disci- 
pline subjected  him  to  a  suspicion  of  heresy.  In  those 
days  it  was  not  a  light  thing  in  Spain  to  be  suspected,  for 
suspicion  was  quickly  followed  by  arrest.  The  accused, 
whether  guilty  or  innocent,  might  be  seized  at  midnight 
and  thrown  into  a  dungeon,  from  which  to  pass  to  the 
stake.  This  would  have  been  a  strange  reversion  of  the 
course  of  things,  which  might  have  changed  the  history  of 
Europe,  if  the  man  to  whom  the  Church  of  Kome  was  to 
owe  its  deliverance  from  the  dangers  which  threatened  it 
in  the  middle  of  the  sixteenth  century,  had  himself  per- 
ished by  the  Inquisition !  Such  might  have  been  the  case 
had  he  not  left  Alcala  for  Paris,  the  city  which  is  hospi- 
table to  men  of  all  countries  and  all  opinions,  where  he 
pursued  his  studies  unmolested,  and  was  brought  in  con- 
tact with  the  men  whom  he  was  to  recruit  as  the  first 
members  of  his  Order.  It  was  here  that  he  met  Francis 
Xavier,  a  young  and  brilliant  scholar,  who,  though  a  Span- 
iard by  birth,  was  a  Frenchman  in  his  love  of  gaiety  and 
pleasure,  which  he  could  not  willingly  surrender  to  the 
solicitations  of  his  stern  and  almost  gloomy  countryman. 
But  gradually  this  gay  scholar,  a  lover  of  letters  and  yet  a 
lover  of  the  world,  began  to  feel  the  power  of  "  impres- 
sions which  he  could  neither  welcome  nor  avoid."  The 
issue  is  thus  told  : 

"  "Whether  he  partook  of  the  frivolities  in  which  he  delighted, 
or  in  the  disquisitions  in  which  he  excelled,  or  traced  the  wind- 
ings of  the  Seine  through  the  forests  which  then  lined  its  banks, 
Ignatius  was  still  at  hand  to  discuss  with  him  the  charms  of 
society,  of  learning,  or  of  nature;  but  whatever  had  been  the 
theme,  it  was  still  closed  by  the  awful  inquiry,  '  What  shall  it 
profit  a  man  if  he  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?  ' 
.  .  .  '  In  the  unrelaxing  grasp  of  the  strong  man,  Xavier  gradu- 
ally yielded  to  the  fascination,'  " 


54  HE  FOUNDS  THE  ORDER  OF  JESUS. 

The  same  influence  drew  to  Loyola  a  few  other  Mndred 
spirits,  not  more  than  half  a  dozen  in  all,  who  bound  them- 
selves by  vows  to  devote  their  lives  to  the  service  of  the 
Church,  though  it  was  not  till  1537  that  either  he  or  Xavier 
received  priest's  orders.  Even  then  their  little  company 
had  increased  to  but  thirteen,  when  they  went  to  Eome  to 
ask  permission  of  the  Holy  Father  to  found  a  new  Order 
for  the  defence  of  the  Church  and  the  propagation  of  the 
faith.  The  petition  was  for  a  long  time  refused.  But  the 
dangers  of  the  Church  were  pressing  ;  the  Reformation 
had  spread  over  one-half  of  Europe,  and  might  soon  sweep 
over  the  other ;  and  at  last,  in  1541,  the  bull  was  issued 
which  authorized  the  establishment  of  the  most  powerful 
religious  Order  that  has  ever  existed  on  the  earth. 

Loyola  was  now  fifty  years  old.  Three-fourths  of  his 
life  was  gone,  but  the  object  for  which  he  had  wrought 
for  twenty  years  was  attained  :  he  had  founded  an  Order 
which  should  be  a  power  in  the  world  for  more  than  twenty 
generations.  And  now  as  he  stood  on  life's  summit,  he 
might  well  feel  that  his  work  was  done.  But  it  was  only 
begun  :  all  the  past  was  but  the  preparation  for  that  which 
was  to  come.  No  sooner  was  the  Order  established  than 
he  was  chosen  its  General.  Twice  he  refused,  but  was  at 
last  compelled  to  accept  the  place  of  which  no  one  else 
was  worthy.  From  that  moment  he  was  an  uncrowned 
king.  And  when  he  took  the  power,  he  took  it  with  no 
trembling  hand  :  he  was  as  absolute  as  the  Sultan  or  the 
Czar.  For  sixteen  years  he  wrought  in  it  with  the  tireless 
energy  of  Napoleon.  Few  kings  had  so  wide  a  dominion  : 
for  as  the  Order  spread  rapidly,  it  soon  had  branches  in 
every  civilized,  and  in  almost  every  uncivilized,  country, 
with  all  which  he  was  in  constant  correspondence  ;  so  that 
it  might  almost  be  said  of  him  in  his  Monastery  in  Eome, 
as  of  Philip  II.  in  the  Escorial,  that  from  it  he  ruled  two 


ITS   MILITARY   ORGANIZATION.  55 

hemispheres,  and  ruled  them  not  in  name,  but  in  reality, 
for  of  all  that  vast  organization  he  was  the  centre  and  the 
soul.  There  was  not  a  Jesuit  missionary,  however  far 
away — in  India  or  China  or  Thibet,  among  the  mountains 
of  Asia  or  on  the  Eastern  or  Western  Coast  of  South  Amer- 
ica— who  did  not  feel  the  impress  of  that  powerful  hand. 

In  laying  the  foundation  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  Loyola 
found  the  invaluable  benefit  of  his  military  education.  To 
men  of  high  spirit,  impatient  of  control,  there  is  no  train- 
ing so  effective  as  that  of  the  profession  of  arms.  It  curbs 
the  most  fiery  energy,  as  it  bids  even  courage  wait  upon 
the  word  of  command,  and  thus  compresses  the  explosive 
power  of  human  passion,  making  it  all  the  more  terrible 
and  destructive  when  it  bursts  forth.  "What  Ignatius  had 
learned  as  a  Spanish  soldier,  he  introduced  as  the  first 
principle  of  a  religious  Order.  Though  its  object  was 
religious,  its  organization  was  military,  as  much  as  that  of 
any  regiment  in  the  armies  of  the  King  of  Spain.  Its 
head  was  not  a  mere  priest  who  gave  fatherly  counsel,  but 
a  General,  who  issued  his  commands,  and  the  first  duty  of 
every  member  of  the  Order  was  absolute  obedience.  A 
body  organized  on  this  principle  had  in  it  all  the  elements 
of  tremendous  power.  It  was  an  absolute  despotism, 
directed  by  one  imperious  will. 

By  reason  of  this  military  organization,  there  was  an 
esprit  de  corps  running  through  it  as  through  the  rank  and 
file  of  an  army.  This  kindled  the  enthusiasm  of  those 
who  had  been  trained  to  arms,  who  saw  that  in  it  there 
was  room  for  feats  of  daring  as  stirring  as  those  in  war. 
Europe  was  already  plunged  in  a  great  conflict  of  relig- 
ions. A  movement  from  the  North,  which  was  likened  to 
that  of  the  barbarians  who  overwhelmed  the  Roman  Em- 
pire, threatened  to  sweep  away  the  ancient  faith.  Not  in 
hundreds  of  years  had  the  Church  been  in  such  danger. 


56  IT   IS  A  VAST   PROPAGANDA. 

A  cry  of  alarm  rose  from  the  foot  of  the  Apennines,  which 
was  echoed  back  from  the  Alps  and  the  Pyrenees,  and 
roused  every  loyal  Catholic  to  •  arms.  Such  men  found  in 
the  Order  of  Jesuits  the  organization  in  which  they  could 
unite  their  ardor  with  the  greatest  effect.  It  drew  into  it 
men  of  all  ranks,  from  princes  and  nobles  to  the  men  of 
the  middle  class  ;  and  even  peasants,  with  the  smallest  pos- 
sible education,  were  admitted  to  serve  as  lay  brothers,  and 
thus  help  to  rally  the  common  people  to  allegiance  to  the 
faith. 

While  thus  efficient  at  home,  the  Order  of  Jesuits  was 
to  be  a  vast  Propaganda  abroad.  It  was  to  furnish  the 
apostles  that  should  carry  the  banner  of  the  Cross  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth.  Here  again  the  military  discipline  was 
the  secret  of  power.  It  anticipated  the  hesitation  which 
paralyzes  great  designs.  If  a  member  received  orders  to 
start  to-morrow  morning  for  the  most  distant  part  of  the 
globe,  he  had  not  to  deliberate  a  moment : 

"  Not  his  to  ask  the  reason  why; 
His  but  to  do  or  die." 

This  giving  up  of  one's  self  to  such  extent  as  forbade 
even  clinging  to  his  home  or  country,  was  the  nurse  of  all 
the  virtues  that  are  born  of  self-denial.  The  love  that  was 
shut  up  in  one  direction,  flowed  in  another  ;  and  he  who 
seemed  almost  without  natural  affection,  might  prove  the 
truest  and  tenderest  of  friends  and  brothers.  Never  was 
there  a  deeper  well-spring  of  goodness  than  in  the  heart 
of  Francis  Xavier,  of  whom  Sir  James  Stephens  says  : 

"No  man,  however  abject  his  condition,  disgusting  his  mala- 
dies, or  hateful  his  crimes,  ever  turned  to  Xavier  without  learn- 
ing that  there  was  at  least  one  human  heart  on  which  he  could 
repose  with  all  the  confidence  of  a  brother's  love.  To  his  eye 
the  meanest  and  the  lowest  reflected  the  image  of  Him  whom  he 
followed  and  adored ;  nor  did  he  suppose  that  he  could  ever  serve 


BECOMES  A  DANGEROUS  POLITICAL  POWER.        57 

the  Saviour  of  Mankind  so  acceptably  as  by  ministering  to  their 
sorrows,  and  recalling  them  into  the  way  of  peace." 

While  these  virtues  of  individuals  are  fully  recognized, 
yet  to  the  Order  itself  its  very  success  was  its  peril,  as  it 
nursed  a  passion  for  power,  which  quickly  became  unscru- 
pulous in  the  means  to  its  end.  Assuming  as  a  first  prin- 
ciple that  its  object  was  holy,  it  reasoned  that  every  means 
to  carry  it  out  was  legitimate.  From  being  a  power  in 
the  Church,  it  aspired  to  be  a  power  in  the  State,  in  polit- 
ical affairs ;  and  while  it  sent  out  missionaries  to  preach 
the  Gospel,  it  sent  agents  of  a  very  different  character  to 
every  court  in  Europe,  where  they  were  deep  in  plotting, 
intriguing,  and  persecuting.  The  zeal  of  the  Order  was 
greatest  in  the  extermination  of  heretics.  It  lighted  the 
fires  of  the  autos-da-fe,  and  was  the  main  support  of  the 
Inquisition.  It  soon  became  recognized  as  the  most  dead- 
ly enemy  of  liberty.  Not  content  to  oppose  it  by  priestly 
influence,  it  did  not  hesitate  to  take  part  in  conspiracies, 
in  massacres  and  assassinations.  If  it  did  not  instigate, 
there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  it  connived  at,  the 
Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew  ;  while  the  evidence  is  still 
stronger  that  it  aimed  the  dagger  at  the  heart  of  Henry  IV., 
the  best  of  the  kings  of  France,  and  fired  the  shot  that 
ended  the  life  of  William  of  Orange. 

What  the  Order  of  Jesuits  was  in  the  Sixteenth  Centu- 
ry, it  was  in  the  Seventeenth  and  Eighteenth.  It  is  but 
little  more  than  a  hundred  years  ago  that  a  Pope — Clement 
XIV. — who  issued  a  bull  to  suppress  it,  perished  by  poison. 
With  such  a  record  of  crime,  we  can  hardly  condemn  as 
too  strong  the  language  of  Castelar,  when,  standing  before 
the  house  in  which  Ignatius  Loyola  was  born,  he  said  that 
"beneath  that  roof  had  come  into  existence  the  man  whose 
influence  had  been  more  fatal  (funesta)  than  that  of  any 
other  man  who  had  ever  lived  on  the  earth !  " 


58        REAL  GREATNESS  OF  LOYOLA. 

But  influence  is  one  thing,  and  character  is  another. 
The  motive  may  be  good,  even  though  the  result  be  evil. 
In  many  of  the  elements  of  greatness,  Ignatius  Loyola  was 
one  of  the  greatest  of  men.  His  commanding  presence 
was  but  the  outward  indication  of  a  nature  that  was  born 
to  rule  mankind.  His  power  came  in  part  from  his  un- 
questioning faith.  The  Spaniards  are  strong  believers,  and 
he  was  of  the  strongest.  The  greatest  mysteries  did  not 
perplex  him.  Even  the  doctrine  of  Transubstantiation  was 
made  clear  to  him,  not  only  by  faith,  but  by  sight,  for  in 
one  of  his  ecstacies  of  devotion  he  saw  the  change  of  the 
bread  and  wine  into  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ !  After 
this  nothing  could  stagger  him.  The  mystery  of  the  Trin- 
ity was  as  clear  as  any  mathematical  proposition.  Indeed 
the  greater  the  natural  improbability  of  any  article  of  the 
creed,  the  greater  the  exercise  of  faith,  and  the  more  un« 
doubtingly  he  believed. 

However  unreasonable  may  be  such  a  faith,  no  one  can 
fail  to  see  with  what  prodigious  "  motive  power  "  such  a 
man  is  endowed.  Instead  of  living  in  an  atmosphere  of 
vagueness  and  uncertainty,  he  has  solid  ground  under  his 
feet,  and  moves  forward  with  the  firm  tread  of  a  soldier. 
Such  was  the  power  of  Loyola  over  those  around  him,  who, 
whatever  degree  of  ability  or  learning  they  possessed,  were 
over-borne  by  his  unquestioning  faith  and  his  tremendous 
will. 

Another  element  of  power  was  the  self-discipline  which 
he  never  relaxed.  However  rigid  was  that  which  he  ex- 
acted of  others,  to  the  same  he  subjected  himself.  Like  a 
true  soldier,  he  led  the  way  where  he  wished  them  to  fol- 
low, and  thus  gave  them  not  only  the  authority  of  his  com- 
mand, but  the  inspiration  of  his  example. 

These  self  denials  he  carried  (as  we  believe)  beyond  the 
bounds  alike  of  reason  and  religion.  He  denied  himself 


SELF-DENIAL  CARRIED  TO  EXCESS.  59 

not  only  every  indulgence,  but  even  the  ordinary  pleasures 
of  human  society.  It  is  affirmed — incredible  as  it  may 
seem — that  "  for  thirty  years  he  never  once  looked  upon 
the  female  countenance."  A  man  thus  deprived  of  every 
form  of  domestic  life,  never  looking  in  the  face  of  mother 
or  sister,  must  become  to  some  extent  dehumanized.  Not 
so  did  our  Divine  Master,  who  —  lonely  as  He  was,  apart 
from  other  men  as  He  was  above  them — still  felt  all  the 
sweet  tenderness  of  home,  which  drew  Him  to  Bethany  to 
comfort  Mary  and  Martha  concerning  their  brother  ;  and 
who,  so  far  from  shrinking  from  the  face  of  woman,  did 
not  turn  away  from  her  in  any  depth  of  sorrow  or  of  sin  ; 
who  suffered  the  penitent  Magdalen  to  kneel  at  His  feet ; 
and,  instead  of  crushing  her,  raised  her  up  with  the  words, 
"  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee  ;  go  and  sin  no  more." 

And  so  the  rule  of  implicit  obedience,  which  is  the  cor- 
nerstone of  the  Order,  may  be  carried  to  an  extent  that 
destroys  a  man's  individuality,  till  he  is  no  longer  a  sepa- 
rate being,  with  the  power  of  free  will  and  free  action,  but 
is  simply  an  infinitesimal  part  of  a  tremendous  machine, 
which  goes  on  with  its  terrible  work,  grinding  and  crush- 
ing at  once  human  intellect  and  human  affection.  So  much 
as  this  indeed  is  avowed  in  the  famous  maxim  "  Perinde 
ac  cadaver"  [that  one  may  become  like  a  dead  body],  a 
principle  which  reverses  the  order  of  nature  and  of  God, 
who  "  is  not  the  God  of  the  dead  but  of  the  living,"  and 
demands  for  His  service  not  dead  bodies  but  living  souls. 

While  we  thus  dissent  from  the  principles  of  the  Order 
of  Jesuits,  we  have  no  wish  to  detract  from  the  real  great- 
ness of  its  founder,  or  to  cast  a  shadow  on  his  immortal 
name.  Never  do  we  visit  Rome  without  going  to  the 
Church  of  the  Gesu,  built  in  his  honor,  where  his  bones 
rest  under  an  altar  with  the  simple  inscription  Ad  majoram 
Dei  gloriam — words  which  express  with  simple  majesty  f^o 


60  AD  MAJORAM   DEI  GLORIAM. 

one  object  for  which  he  lived  and  died.  A  noble  epitaph 
indeed,  but  one  which  belongs  not  to  him  alone,  but  which 
might  be  inscribed  with  equal  fitness  on  the  tablet  in  West- 
minster Abbey  which  rests  above  all  that  is  mortal  of  David 
Livingstone  ;  or  on  the  headstone  that  marks  the  grave  of 
many  a  humble  missionary,  who  has  chosen  the  part  of  an 
exile  that  he  might  do  good  to  his  poor  and  suffering 
fellow-beings  whom  he  never  knew.  All  these,  and  thou- 
sands of  others,  seen  only  by  the  Omniscient  eye,  are  truly 
devoting  their  lives  "to  the  greater  glory  of  God." 

And  so  we  turn  away  from  this  majestic  figure  of  the 
Sixteenth  Century,  with  admiration  for  all  that  was  heroic 
in  that  life  and  character,  yet  feeling  that,  after  all,  the 
Order  founded  by  Ignatius  Loyola  is  based  on  false  prin- 
ciples, which  make  it  far  more  potent  for  evil  than  for  good. 
The  Jesuit  system  is  founded  on  the  Jesuit  creed,  both  of 
which  are,  we  will  not  say  inhuman,  but  certainly  twhuman 
without  being  divine.  From  this  soldier-priest  we  turn  to 
the  Man  of  Galilee,  "  who  went  about  doing  good,"  as  the 
true  type  of  that  moral  greatness  to  which  all,  from  the 
highest  to  the  humblest,  may  aspire. 

"When  we  left  Azpeitia,  it  was  the  middle  of  the  after- 
noon of  the  short  Winter  day,  and  we  had  yet  a  four  hours' 
drive  before  us.  The  darkness  fell  as  we  were  crossing 
the  mountains.  We  stopped  but  once,  in  a  little  Spanish 
village,  for  a  change  of  horses,  and  it  was  far  in  the  even- 
ing when  we  saw  the  lights  of  San  Sebastian. 

A  long  day's  work  to  see  the  spot  in  which  a  man  was 
born  nearly  four  hundred  years  ago !  And  yet  I  have 
seldom  made  a  pilgrimage  to  any  shrine  of  saint  or  martyr 
which  left  on  me  a  deeper  impression.  The  end  of  the 
Fifteenth  century,  and  the  beginning  of  the  Sixteenth,  was 
a  period  of  great  events,  marked  by  many  illustrious  char- 


LOYOLA  AND  COLUMBUS.  61 

acters ;  but  among  them  all  there  appeared  no  grander 
figure  than  this.  Loyola  was  born  in  1491,  and  the  very 
next  year  Columbus  discovered  America.  Among  the  act- 
ors in  history,  few  have  a  higher  place  than  the  discoverer 
of  the  New  World.  And  yet  even  the  brief  review  here 
given  of  a  life  as  different  from  that  of  the  great  navigator 
as  any  two  lives  could  be,  may  lead  us  to  doubt  which  of 
these  two  men — Columbus  or  Loyola — had  the  greater 
influence  on  the  destinies  of  mankind. 


CHAPTER  V. 

BURGOS— THE  CATHEDRAL  AND  MONASTERY. 

Although  we  had  had  our  first  glimpses  of  Spain,  it  was 
only  just  enough  to  excite  our  appetites  for  more.  We 
had  ridden  a  few  miles  along  the  coast,  but  the  vast  inte- 
rior was  still  an  undiscovered  country,  hidden  from  us 
by  a  wall  of  mountains  that  lay  along  the  southern  hori- 
zon. We  were  now  to  pass  the  barrier,  and  penetrate  into 
the  heart  of  the  kingdom. 

It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  that  the  train  from 
Paris,  having  crossed  the  border  at  Irun,  thundered  into 
the  station  at  San  Sebastian,  where  I  had  been  walking  up 
and  down  for  half  an  hour  with  the  grandest  old  Spaniard 
whom  I  met  in  all  Spain,  who  had  come  to  meet  his  friend 
Castelar,  who  had  been  spending  some  weeks  in  Paris 
(where  of  course  he  was  a  great  lion),  and  was  now  on  his 
return.  As  he  spends  his  Summers  at  San  Sebastian,  his 
face  is  familiar  to  everybody,  and  the  family  whose  guest 
he  is  were  there  to  welcome  their  beloved  "  Don  Emilio." 
But  he  did  not  come  till  the  next  day.  I  shared  their  dis- 
appointment, for  there  was  nobody  in  Spain  whom  I  so 
much  wished  to  see.  However,  it  was  all  made  right  when 
we  got  to  Madrid,  where  I  saw  him  many  times,  both  in 


CROSSING  THE  MOUNTAINS.  63 

the  Cortes  and  in  his  own  house.  And  just  now  we  were 
to  have  occupation  for  our  eyes,  which  would  make  it 
almost  "a  sinful  diversion"  to  turn  them  aside  even  to 
gaze  at  the  greatest  of  living  orators. 

The  ride  of  this  afternoon  was  a  disappointment,  but  a 
disappointment  of  the  right  kind.  Somehow  I  had  got  it 
into  my  head  that  the  scenery  of  Spain  was  very  monoto- 
nous, and  so  in  many  places  it  is ;  there  are  vast  treeless 
plains,  which  are  wastes  of  desolation  ;  but  to-day  we 
were  to  cross  the  mountains,  in  which  I  was  constantly 
reminded  of  the  passage  of  the  Alps.  In  all  my  experi- 
ence as  a  traveller,  I  find  nothing  so  fascinating  as  to  have 
the  exhilaration  of  an  Alpine  climb,  without  the  fatigue. 
If  the  ascent  be  gradual,  so  much  the  greater  is  the  enjoy- 
ment, as  both  the  eye  and  the  mind  are  "  keyed  up  "  to  it. 
When  I  see  a  train  preparing  to  storm  a  mountain  pass,  it 
seems  as  if  the  huge  monster  of  an  engine  were  a  living 
thing,  which  knew  what  was  before  it,  and  was  snorting 
like  a  war-horse  that  smells  the  battle  from  afar  ;  that 
"  paweth  the  ground  as  he  goeth  forth  to  meet  the  armed 
men."  The  traveller  who  comes  across  the  continent  feels 
this  keenly  as  he  climbs  the  Sierra  Nevada,  and  sweeps 
round  "  Cape  Horn,"  and  passes  through  the  canons  of  the 
Eocky  Mountains.  And  now  watch  our  iron  steed  as  the 
engineer  " lets  her  go";  how  gracefully  she  moves,  with 
the  long  train  behind  her,  gliding  like  a  serpent  in  con- 
stant curves  ;  now  winding  along  the  green  banks  of  rivers, 
hearing  the  voice  of  streams ;  mounting  by  slow  degrees 
till  we  get  where  ice  look  down.  In  the  Spanish  mountains 
man  has  fought  against  nature  ;  every  spot  of  earth  is  cul- 
tivated, and  vines  are  trailed  along  the  sides  of  the  hills. 
As  we  climb  higher  and  higher,  we  feel  at  every  moment 
the  exhilaration  of  being  raised  up  to  a  greater  altitude, 
of  breathing  a  purer  air,  and  looking  round  on  a  wider 


64  A  SPANISH 

horizon.  Of  course  the  ascent  is  full  of  difficulties,  to 
overcome  which  calls  for  all  the  resources  of  modern  engi- 
neering. The  road,  which  has  been  built  by  a  French 
company,  is  constructed  with  the  same  thoroughness  and 
skill  which  distinguish  the  great  roads  of  France.  But 
it  has  to  make  innumerable  twists  and  turns  to  find  the 
easiest  path,  and  even  then  is  often  driven  to  bay,  to  escape 
from  which  it  has  to  plunge  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth. 
Near  the  top  we  pass  through  a  great  number  of  tunnels — 
fourteen  between  two  stations — some  of  them  very  long. 
These  times  of  darkness  interfere  sadly  with  our  sight- 
seeing ;  but  as  we  rush  through  them  into  light,  we  turn 
this  way  and  that,  enraptured  with  the  views  that  are 
opened  into  the  gorges  beneath,  and  over  the  mountain- 
tops,  which  take  on  such  rosy  tints  as  they  catch  the  last 
rays  of  the  setting  sun,  that  they  seem  "glorious  as  the 
gates  of  heaven,"  and  then  turn  to  glittering  white  as  the 
moonlight  streams  down  their  breasts  of  snow. 

After  a  seven  hours'  ride,  we  drew  into  the  station  of 
the  old  city  of  Burgos,  and  bundling  into  a  rickety  car- 
riage, rattled  away  over  a  bridge,  and  under  the  arch  of 
Santa  Maria,  built  in  honor  of  the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  to 
the  Hotel  del  Norte,  which,  though  put  down  in  all  the 
guide-books  as  the  best  in  the  place,  had  a  cheerless  look 
without,  and  was  not  more  attractive  within.  The  floors 
were  of  brick,  and  when  we  were  taken  up  two  or  three 
flights  of  stairs,  and  through  narrow  passages,  into  small 
and  stuffy  rooms,  we  had  to  confess  that  this  was  not  alto- 
gether home-like.  My  companion,  who  was  used  to  the 
Spanish  ways,  took  his  little  den  without  a  word.  But  not 
so  with  the  newly-imported  American,  to  whom  the  rooms 
had  a  mouldy  air,  as  if  they  had  been  inhabited  by  gener- 
ations of  Spaniards,  whose  ghosts  were  even  now  flutter- 
ing in  the  dingy  curtains  and  counterpanes  ;  and  who, 


ON  THE  BALCONY  BY  MOONLIGHT.       65 

alike  for  his  rest  of  body  and  peace  of  mind,  would  fain 
have  something  better.  The  resources  of  Spanish  inns 
are  not  great,  but  at  least  the  people  are  polite  to  those 
who  recognize  the  Castilian  pride,  and  address  them  with 
proper  respect.  Therefore  I  made  my  humble  petition  to 
the  landlady  (who  seemed  really  desirous  to  make  us  com- 
fortable, if  she  only  knew  how),  as  if  she  were  a  Serene 
Highness,  to  give  me  a  larger  room,  whereupon  she  led  the 
way  to  one,  which,  if  not  exactly  in  the  style  of  a  baro- 
nial hall,  was  at  least  a  great  improvement  on  the  first, 
and  which,  best  of  all,  had  an  open  fire-place,  in  which  (as 
the  small  boys  were  sent  to  bring  wood)  I  soon  had  a  blaz- 
ing fire,  the  most  potent  means  to  brighten  dull  surround- 
ings. Having  made  a  clean  and  wholesome  atmosphere,  I 
asked  for  but  one  thing  more,  a  cot,  for  I  could  npt  go  back 
to  the  close,  narrow  bedroom  ;  and  the  good  people  hunt- 
ed about  till  they  found  a  small  iron  bedstead,  that  had 
perhaps  done  duty  in  the  old  Spanish  wars,  on  which  I 
could  lie  down  "  like  a  warrior  taking  his  rest "  before  his 
camp-fire. 

Having  thus  provided  for  a  comfortable  night,  I  threw 
open  the  shutters  of  a  large  window,  and  stepped  out  upon 
a  little  balcony.  Although  it  was  but  eleven  o'clock,  the 
streets  were  quiet,  save  the  watchman  calling  the  hour, 
with  the  invocation  "Ave  Maria  sanctissima,"  and  the 
moonlight  rested  on  a  silent,  sleeping  city.  Close  to  us 
was  one  of  the  greatest  cathedrals  in  Spain,  and,  as  it  stood 
on  the  slope  of  a  hill,  and  was  below  us,  I  was  on  a  level 
with  the  roof,  which  was  pinnacled  with  spires  and  arches, 
so  airy  and  delicate  that  it  all  seemed  like  some  heavenly 
vision  that  would  float  away  in  the  moonlight.  Farther 
away  rose  a  hill  hundreds  of  feet  high,  crowned  with  a 
castle  a  thousand  years  old,  once  the  city's  glory  and  de- 
fence, which  had  borne  its  part  in  innumerable  wars,  down 


66  THE  CAPITAL  OF  OLD  CASTILE. 

to  the  last  siege  by  Wellington.  These  two  ancient  piles, 
the  Castle  and  the  Cathedral,  standing  over  against  each 
other,  are  types  of  the  Gothic  civilization.  Such  an  hour 
in  the  heart  of  Old  Spain  pays  for  a  long  journey,  and  put 
me  in  a  pleasant  mood  for  the  night  ;  so  that  when  at  last 
I  lay  down  on  my  little  cot,  and  the  light  of  the  dying  em- 
bers cast  shadows  on  the  walls,  I  sank  into  a  half-slumber 
through  which  floated  dreams  of  a  past  in  which  history 
was  romance  and  romance  became  history. 

The  next  morning,  as  soon  as  we  had  time  to  look  about 
us,  we  found  that  we  were  in  one  of  the  historic  cities  of 
Spain.  Burgos  lies  on  a  broad  plain  nearly  three  thousand 
feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  has  been  a  notable  city 
from  the  earliest  days  of  the  Spanish  monarchy.  Indeed 
before  there  was  any  United  Spain,  it  was  the  capital  of 
Old  Castile,  the  very  name  of  which  in  Spanish  (Castilla) 
indicates  that  it  was  full  of  castles,  held  by  brave  warrior- 
knights,  whose  prowess  in  those  days  was  the  wonder  of 
Christendom.  Castile  was  the  first  part  of  Spain  which 
shook  off  the  yoke  of  the  Moors,  against  whom  it  was  led 
by  the  Cid,  who  was  a  native  of  Burgos.  Here  he  was 
born  in  1026,  and  was  married  in  the  old  Castle  ;  and 
though  he  died  in  Valencia,  it  was  his  wish  that  he  should 
be  brought  back  to  his  birthplace  to  be  buried.  At  that 
time  Castile  was  a  separate  kingdom,  and  so  remained 
until  it  was  united  with  Leon,  and  afterwards  with  Arra- 
gon,  which  was  accomplished  only  by  the  marriage  of  Fer- 
dinand and  Isabella. 

How  real  and  true  a  hero  the  Cid  was,  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  say,  as  his  deeds  have  been  so  magnified  that  he 
appears  more  like  a  god  of  mythology  than  a  man  of 
woman  born.  How  much  of  this  grand  figure  really  be- 
longed to  the  original,  nobody  knows.  As  Achilles  and 
Agamemnon  are  known  to  us,  not  by  authentic  history, 


THE  CID.  G7 

but  by  the  Iliad  of  Homer,  so  this  Spanish  Achilles  is 
known  chiefly  through  the  Poem  of  the  Cid,  published  in 
1200,  and  the  Chronicle  of  the  Cid,  in  the  century  after — 
a  Chronicle  filled  with  traditions  of  his  valor  in  songs  and 
ballads,  many  of  which  Southey  has  rendered  into  English 
verse.  No  doubt  he  was  a  brave  soldier,  and  fought  stoutly 
in  the  war  against  the  Moors,  whom  he  hated  with  perfect 
hatred,  if  that  be  a  virtue.  But  it  is  not  necessary  to  be- 
lieve that  he  rode  into  Burgos  on  his  favorite  horse,  and 
clad  in  a  full  suit  of  mail,  after  he  was  dead  ;  nor  that,  when 
a  Jew  approached  his  dead  body  to  offer  it  some  indignity, 
it  lifted  a  mailed  hand  and  felled  him  to  the  earth ! 

If  all  the  stories  they  tell  of  him  were  true,  they  would 
not  be  much  to  his  honor.  In  the  Cathedral  is  suspended 
on  the  wall  a  coffer  which  served  him  as  a  camp-chest,  and 
of  which  it  is  said  that,  when  his  finances  were  at  a  low 
ebb,  he  filled  it  with  stones,  representing  the  heavy  weight 
as  concealed  treasure,  and  on  this  security  borrowed  money 
of  a  Jew,  exacting  a  promise  that  the  chest  should  not  be 
opened  till  the  debt  was  paid,  as  in  due  time  it  was,  when 
the  lid  was  raised  and  the  deceit  exposed.  This  story  is 
gravely  told  by  the  Spanish  historians,  as  if  it  were  a  proof 
of  the  marvellous  shrewdness  of  their  hero,  seeming  not  to 
reflect  that  they  exalt  his  cunning  at  the  expense  of  his 
truth  and  honor. 

However,  we  must  not  sit  in  critical  judgment  on  a  hero 
of  romance,  whose  deeds  have  been  chronicled  in  song, 
and  whose  valor  has  been  a  national  tradition  for  seven 
centuries.  Let  Spain  have  her  idols,  as  we  keep  ours. 

All  that  Burgos  now  has  to  show  of  the  Cid  are  his  bones, 
which  are  kept  in  the  Town  Hall,  in  a  chest  under  glass, 
with  a  partition  to  separate  them  from  the  bones  of  his 
wife,  over  which  a  traveller  may  moralize  after  the  style 
of  the  grave-digger  in  Hamlet.  These  bones  have  partly 


68  THE  CATHEDRAL. 

crumbled  into  dust.  The  conqueror  Time  has  ground  the 
Cid,  as  he  grinds  ordinary  human  beings,  very  small ;  and 
he  who  made  the  infidels  to  tremble  as  he  rode  his  war- 
horse  over  the  field  of  battle,  trampling  them  down,  is  but 
a  soft,  fine  powder,  which  would  be  blown  away  if  it  were 
not  kept  in  a  bottle !  Such  is  the  end  of  all  human  glory : 

"  Ceesar  dead  and  turned  to  clay 
May  stop  a  hole  to  keep  the  wind  away." 

But  the  great  attraction  of  this  old  Spanish  city  is  the 
Cathedral.  Some  travellers  would  say  it  is  the  only  attrac- 
tion, so  much  does  it  overshadow  all  others.  Indeed  we 
might  almost  describe  Burgos  as  a  Cathedral  with  a  town 
thrown  in,  so  completely  is  the  latter  dwarfed  and  dwin- 
dled by  that  central  mass  of  towers  that  rises  above  it,  and 
draws  the  eyes  of  all  beholders  to  its  glorious  self.  To  me 
it  had  a  special  interest  as  being  the  first  of  those  great 
Spanish  Cathedrals,  to  see  which  had  been  one  chief  object 
of  my  visit  to  Spain.  These  have  a  character  of  their  own, 
different  from  those  of  France,  Italy,  or  Germany.  Before 
I  left  America,  Chief  Justice  Daly  prepared  for  me  an 
itineraire,  in  which  he  spoke  of  the  Cathedrals  of  Burgos, 
Toledo,  and  Seville,  as  "the  three  finest  in  Spain,  and 
therefore  the  three  finest  Gothic  Cathedrals  ii?  Europe." 
To  the  first  of  these  we  were  now  to  be  introduced. 

Before  entering,  let  us  take  a  walk  around  it  :  for  it 
would  be  almost  irreverent  to  rush  into  such  a  presence 
without  some  preparation  both  of  the  eye  and  the  mind. 
In  approaching  it,  we  observe  (as  we  have  often  had  occa- 
sion to  observe  elsewhere  on  the  Continent)  how  much  the 
impression  of  the  most  magnificent  architecture  is  impaired 
by  the  want  of  proper  position.  To  the  grandest  effect  of 
a  building  designed  to  endure  for  ages,  it  ought  to  stand 
on  a  hill,  like  the  Parthenon ;  or  in  large  grounds,  which 
give  it  the  presence  and  the  dignity  that  become  a  king. 


THE   CATHEDRAL.  69 

It  should  have  ample  space  around  it,  as  we  give  space  to 
a  mighty  elm  or  oak,  the  glory  of  the  forest,  that  it  may 
spread  its  arms  abroad  "  to  all  the  winds  that  blow." 

The  position  of  Burgos  did  not  admit  of  much,  unless 
the  Cathedral  were  placed  outside  of  the  town.  Although 
the  country  round  is  a  plain,  the  city  is  built  on  sloping 
ground,  between  the  river  which  flows  on  one  side  of  it, 
and  the  hill  on  which  stands  the  old  Castle  on  the  other. 
Here  the  space  is  necessarily  somewhat  confined,  so  that 
the  Cathedral  is  hemmed  in  by  narrow  streets,  and  is  on 
such  a  slope  that  while  its  front  opens  on  a  little  _  plaza 
above  their  level,  the  rear  actually  abuts  against  a  hill ; 
so  that  in  entering  from  that  side,  one  has  to  descend  a 
staircase  to  the  pavement.  Such  infelicities  of  position 
would  be  quite  enough  to  kill  any  ordinary  structure.  And 
yet — and  yet — the  Cathedral  of  Burgos  is  so  vast  in  its  pro- 
portions, that  it  can  stand  anything.  No  matter  though  the 
bustling  streets  come  up  to  its  very  doors,  like  the  waves 
of  the  sea  to  the  foot  of  a  mighty  cliff,  still  it  lifts  its  head 
unmoved  by  the  tumult  and  raging  below,  while  it  soars 
and  soars  to  the  sky.  And  so,  as  we  stand  at  the  foot  of 
the  towers  and  look  up,  we  feel  very,  very  small,  and  they 
seem  very,  very  hign. 

But  with  all  this,  the  greatest  impression  is  not  from 
without,  but  from  within.  In  this  respect  the  Spanish 
cathedrals  differ  from  the  Italian,  at  least  from  those  in 
Florence,  where  the  famous  Duomo,  the  unveiling  of  whose 
new  fa§ade  has  excited  such  enthusiasm  in  Italy,  has  one 
great  defect.  Externally  it  is  one  of  the  grandest  Cathe- 
drals in  Europe.  As  you  stand  in  front  of  it,  with  the 
Campanile  at  its  side,  or  walk  round  it,  and  measure  its 
walls — how  far  they  reach  and  how  high  they  rise  ! — and 
look  up  to  the  dome  of  Brunelleschi,  more  vast  than  that 
which  Michael  Angelo  built  over  St.  Peter's  at  Eome,  you 


70  THE  INTKKIOR. 

are  quite  overwhelmed.  And  yet  this  great  building,  the 
pride  of  Florence,  in  its  interior  is  so  badly  cut  up  in  its 
arrangement  of  pillars  and  arches,  that  it  looks  smaller 
than  from  without  and  is  far  less  imposing.  And  even 
Santa  Croce, 

1 '  Within  whose  holy  precincts  lie 
Ashes  that  make  it  holier," 

depends  for  its  interest  chiefly  on  its  monuments.  Trav- 
ellers visit  it,  not  to  see  one  of  the  ecclesiastical  wonders 
of  Italy,  but  chiefly  to  look  upon  the  tombs  of  Dante  and 
Michael  Angelo. 

To  all  this  the  Spanish  Cathedrals  offer  a  striking  con- 
trast. Their  interiors  are  perfect.  Vast  as  they  are,  they 
are  so  admirably  proportioned  that  immensity  never  be- 
comes monstrosity.  "The  length,  the  breadth,  and  the 
height "  are,  if  not  "  equal,"  yet  perfectly  measured  the 
one  to  the  other.  To  this  should  be  added  the  effect  of 
color  :  for  while  the  Florentine  churches  have  interiors  as 
bare  and  cold  as  those  of  a  monastery,  the  Spanish  Cathe- 
drals are  all  aglow  with  the  light  of  stained-glass  windows, 
while  the  numerous  altars  are  illumined  and  glorified 
by  paintings  of  the  old  Spanish  masters.  "With  the  archi- 
tecture and  the  color  together,  the  effect  is  of  a  majesty 
that  can  hardly  be  described.  "When  Edward  Everett  Hale 
had  spent  an  hour  or  two  in  the  Cathedral  of  Burgos,  he 
could  only  say,  "  It  is  wonderful  :  I  have  seen  nothing  like 
it."  He  adds  indeed,  "  It  is  not  so  large  as  Cologne,  but 
the  finish  is  perfect."  In  his  mind  the  greater  vastness  of 
the  one  was  more  than  balanced  by  the  exquisite  beauty 
of  the  other. 

As  we  entered,  the  morning  service  was  begun,  and 
worshippers  were  kneeling  between  the  choir  and  the  high 
altar.  This  open  space,  where  the  transept  crosses  the 
nave,  is  directly  under  the  dome,  which  rises  above  it  to  a 


THE  CHOIft  TX  THE  CENTRE.  71 

height  of  nearly  two  hundred  feet.  It  was  a  very  striking 
scene,  in  which  the  lights  and  shadows  seemed  to  be 
responsive  to  the  rising  and  falling  of  the  voices,  and  the 
hearts  even  of  strangers  rose  and  fell  as  they  turned  their 
eyes,  now  to  the  dim  vault  above,  and  now  to  the  kneeling 
worshippers  below. 

Here  for  the  first  time  I  observed  what  is  peculiar  to 
the  Spanish  Cathedrals,  the  introduction  of  the  choir,  or 
"  coro,"  in  the  centre  of  the  church,  which  mars  greatly 
the  architectural  effect.  Yet  it  has  its  compensation  :  for 
as  the  worship  is  in  the  centre,  the  circling  waves  of  sound 
roll  into  every  side  chapel  (there  are  fourteen  of  them)  ; 
so  that  not  only  the  crowd  that  kneels  before  the  high 
altar,  but  the  poorest  and  humblest  worshipper  who  may 
seek  a  refuge  from  every  eye,  that  he  may  pour  out  his 
heart  before  God,  may  still  hear  the  words  of  faith  and 
hope  to  bear  up  his  soul  to  heaven. 

When  the  service  was  ended,  we  turned  from  listening 
to  seeing,  and  tried  to  take  in  the  majesty  that  was  around 
us  in  the  stately  columns  which  stood  like  a  grove  of  the 
cedars  of  Lebanon,  whose  branches  touching  overhead 
made  the  lofty  arches  that  bore  up  the  mighty  roof  of 
this  forest  of  stone. 

After  this  general  survey,  we  made  the  round  of  the 
side  chapels,  each  of  which  deserves  a  separate  study,  as 
they  are  not  only  rich  in  precious  marbles  and  other  costly 
decorations,  but  many  of  them  have  a  historical  interest, 
as  connected  with  old  Castilian  families,  whose  names  and 
deeds  live  in  Spanish  song  and  story.  Every  Spanish 
Cathedral  is  a  kind  of  Westminster  Abbey — a  place  of 
burial  for  the  great  of  former  generations.  Here  they  lie 
— the  sculptured  forms  that  rest  above  their  sepulchres 
representing  them  as  they  were  in  the  days  of  life  :  the 
bishop  in  his  robes,  with  his  hands  folded  on  his  breast  ; 


72  A  SPANISH  WESTMINSTER  ABBEY. 

and  the  kniglit  in  his  armor,  but  who  will  never  go  forth 
to  battle  again.  In  these  memorials  of  the  past,  one  may 
read  the  history  of  Spain.  An  illustration  of  this  we  have 
in  the  Chapel  of  the  Constable  of  Castile,  which,  though 
not  one  of  the  side  chapels,  is  a  part  of  the  Cathedral.  He 
was  a  warrior  of  the  time  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and 
entered  Granada  at  their  side.  As  in  all  these  old  Spanish 
heroes  war  was  always  mingled  with  religion,  we  have 
here  not  only  his  sword  and  helmet  and  coat-of-mail,  but 
the  ivory  crucifix  which  he  bore  with  him  on  his  campaigns, 
and  the  sacramental  vessels  with  which  he  had  mass  cele- 
brated on  the  field  of  battle.  His  wars  are  over  now,  and 
here,  with  his  beloved  wife  by  his  side,  he  has  slept  the 
long  sleep  of  four  hundred  years.  With  the  Catholic  idea 
in  regard  to  the  state  of  the  dead,  it  seemed  fitting  that 
they  should  rest  in  the  place  of  constant  prayer  :  for  I 
found  that  worship  was  going  on  in  some  part  of  the 
Cathedral  almost  without  ceasing  ;  that  while  the  high 
altar  was  vacant  and  the  choir  was  empty,  in  some  of  the 
chapels  masses  were  being  said  by  the  side  of  the  tombs, 
and  "  the  daily  sacrifice  "  was  offered  for  the  quick  and 
dead. 

Next  to  the  Cathedral,  the  object  of  greatest  interest 
in  Burgos  is  a  Carthusian  Monastery  a  couple  of  miles 
from  the  city,  which  was  founded  four  hundred  years  ago 
by  Queen  Isabella.  Taking  a  carriage  with  two  strapping 
mules,  we  crossed  the  river,  on  the  other  side  of  which  is 
the  Alameda,  a  park  planted  with  elms,  which  furnishes  a 
delightful  retreat  for  the  people  of  the  city  in  the  heat  of 
Bummer.  It  is  a  pretty  drive  through  the  long  avenue 
lined  with  trees.  On  the  right  are  large  barracks,  with 
quarters  for  six  regiments  of  mounted  artillery.  As  we 
were  enjoying  the  beauty  of  this  rural  suburb  of  Burgos, 
we  perceived  that  we  were  an  object  of  attention  to  a 


THE  CARTHUSIAN  MONASTERY.  73 

swarm  of  beggars,  who  had  fixed  their  hungry  eyes  upon 
us.  One  burly  fellow  trotted  beside  the  carriage  for  a 
mile,  determined  to  be  "  in  at  the  death  "  whenever  we 
should  come  to  a  halt.  As  we  rode  up  to  the  Monastery 
(which  stands  in  a  noble  position  on  the  top  of  a  hill, 
commanding  an  extensive  view  of  the  country)  we  found 
the  outer  court  filled  with  another  troop  of  the  noble  army 
of  beggars,  lying  in  wait  for  the  coming  of  the  foreigner, 
the  only  escape  from  whom  was  to  get  inside  as  quickly 
as  possible. 

Kinging  at  the  gate  for  admission,  a  small  grated 
window  was  drawn  aside,  revealing  the  cowled  face  of  a 
monk,  who,  to  our  request  for  admission,  replied  by  asking 
"  If  there  were  any  ladies  in  the  party  ?  "  as  if  the  presence 
of  one  of  the  sex  would  be  dangerous  to  his  soul.  Being 
assured  that  there  were  none,  the  key  was  turned,  and  the 
heavy  door  swung  open,  and  we  found  ourselves  in  a  long 
corridor,  through  which  we  followed  our  guide,  who  was 
habited  in  the  Carthusian  dress,  a  frock  of  coarse  white 
flannel,  with  a  cowl  over  his  closely  shaven  head,  although 
the  rules  of  his  order  did  not  forbid  him  to  wear  a  very 
respectable  and  rather  handsome  beard.  Otherwise  he 
was  a  plain-looking  friar  (he  told  us  he  was  but  a  lay- 
brother),  who,  if  he  had  been  put  to  work  at  some  humble 
industry,  might  have  made  an  honest  living.  These  lay- 
brothers  perform  the  menial  offices  of  the  place.  One  of 
them  we  saw,  with  a  cowl  over  his  head,  sweeping  out  the 
corridor !  Our  conductor  was  not  much  above  the  same 
level.  However,  humble  as  he  was,  he  had  sufficient 
intelligence  to  serve  as  a  guide. 

The  Monastery  was  begun  by  the  father  of  Isabella, 
King  John  II.,  in  1442,  and  after  his  death  was  completed 
in  his  honor  by  his  illustrious  daughter,  and  here  both 
father  and  mother  are  buried  in  the  church  before  the 


74  HOW  MANY  BROTHERS  ARE  HERE  NOW? 

high  altar,  in  a  tomb  of  wliicli  Hare  says  :  "  Their  gorgeous 
alabaster  monument  is  perhaps  the  most  perfectly  glorious 
tomb  in  the  world."  I  observed  that  the  monk,  whether 
awed  by  its  magnificence  or  by  the  sacredness  of  the  place, 
spoke  in  a  whisper.  On  one  side  of  this  pompous  sepulchre 
is  one  of  less  pretension,  to  their  son  Alfonso,  whose  early 
death  left  open  to  his  sister  Isabella  the  pathway  to  a 
throne.  These  tender  memories  of  course  made  the  place 
very  sacred  to  the  gentle  and  devout  Queen,  who  came 
here  often  to  pray  at  the  tombs  of  her  beloved  dead. 

In  another  room  hangs  on  the  wall  a  painting  of  scenes 
in  the  life  of  our  Lord,  which  is  made  with  leaves  to  fold 
up  like  a  screen,  and  is  the  veritable  one  that  was  carried 
by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  in  their  wars,  and  placed  on  an 
altar  in  the  camp  when  they  would  celebrate  military  mass 
in  the  midst  of  their  armies. 

All  this  was  exceedingly  interesting,  but  I  began  to 
grow  curious  about  the  Monastery,  not  as  it  was  four 
hundred  years  ago,  but  as  it  is  to-day  ;  and  with  American 
inquisitiveness,  ventured  to  ask  : 

"  How  many  brothers  are  here  now  ?  " 

The  answer  was  made  plain  to  the  eye  as  well  as  to  the 
ear,  when  the  monk  took  us  to  what  was  the  oldest  part 
of  the  building  which  had  been  the  chapel,  but  as  the 
Monastery  grew  in  size,  had  been  turned  into  a  refectory. 
This  was  on  a  scale  that  indicated  a  large  number  of 
inmates  ;  it  might  have  served  for  two  hundred  ;  but  the 
poor  monk  sadly  confessed  that  their  numbers  were  now 
reduced  to  twenty-seven ! 

Next  I  advanced  to  more  direct  inquiries  : 

"  What  do  you  do  here,  good  father  ?  "  "  How  do  you 
spend  your  time  ?  "  and  "  What  supports  the  Monastery  ?  " 
For  I  remembered  that  the  Carthusian  Order,  founded  by 
Saint  Bruno  in  1086,  was  one  of  the  strictest  Orders  in  the 


THE  HOURS  OF  DEVOTION.  75 

Church,  subject  to  stern  rules  of  labor,  requiring  them  to 
work  as  well  as  to  pray  ;  so  that  the  Carthusian  monks 
were  famous  agriculturists.  Hence  I  thought  it  not  intru- 
sive to  inquire  if  this  rigid  discipline  were  still  kept  up  : 
if  this  Monastery  were  conducted  according  to  the  original 
rules  of  the  Order. 

The  answer  said  nothing  of  agriculture  or  any  other 
industry.  As  to  their  means  of  support,  the  monk  con- 
fessed that  their  supplies  were  rather  low  ;  but  such  as 
they  were,  they  were  derived  from  two  sources — gifts, 
which  were  few,  and  masses  for  the  dead,  which  were  paid 
for,  that  the  souls  of  the  dead  might  be  delivered  from 
purgatory ! 

"And  what  are  your  hours  of  devotion  ?  " 

"  From  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  nine,  and  from 
three  to  four  in  the  afternoon  "  ;  besides  which  they  are 
roused  from  their  slumbers  at  night  to  pray,  which  they 
begin  at  half  past  ten,  and  continue  till  half  past  two  : 
thus  making  two  hours  in  the  day-time  and  four  at  night, 
six  in  all,  just  one-fourth  of  the  twenty-four  hours  ! 

What  a  volume  of  prayer  is  this  to  be  going  up  without 
ceasing,  day  and  night,  like  a  cloud  of  incense,  before 
God!  Such  is  our  first  thought,  but  I  fear  that,  if  we 
could  be  present  at  these  nightly  vigils,  we  should  be  dis- 
enchanted ;  that,  instead  of  a  company  of  worshippers  rapt 
in  devotion,  we  should  find  only  a  couple  of  dozen  tired, 
sleepy  monks,  droning  out  their  prayers  to  the  echo  of  the 
walls  of  stone.  So  I  found  it  at  Mount  Sinai,  and  I  have 
no  reason  to  think  it  different  here. 

"Might  we  be  permitted  to  see  the  rooms  of  the 
monks  ?  "  He  hesitated  a  little  at  this,  but  finally  showed 
us  one  which  was  probably  of  the  better  class,  as  he  said 
"  it  would  be  for  a  priest  who  performed  mass."  But  it 
was  as  naked  and  cheerless  as  a  prison  cell,  with  stone 


76  IN  A  MONK'S  CELL. 

floor  and  bare  walls.  In  the  corner  was  a  little  opening  in 
which  the  wretched  occupant  could  light  a  few  coals  to 
keep  himself  from  perishing  with  the  Winter's  cold.  Here 
he  lived  apart  from  his  brethren,  not  even  taking  his  meals 
in  the  refectory,  but  alone,  his  scanty  portion  being 
brought  to  him  by  one  of  the  servants  of  the  convent,  and 
placed  at  a  hole  in  the  wall,  through  which  it  was  drawn 
in  as  it  might  be  by  a  convict  behind  the  bars.  Overhead 
was  a  niche  in  which  he  slept,  where  was  a  piece  of  coarse 
sacking  filled  with  straw,  and  a  low  shelf  of  stone  on  which 
he  might  place  a  crucifix  and  a  candle,  and  a  stone  step  on 
which  he  could  kneel  and  say  his  prayers.  Here  lived  the 
Carthusian  monk,  immured  as  in  a  dungeon,  thinking  to 
gain  heaven  by  making  earth  a  hell ! 

As  we  came  out  we  met  a  young  brother  with  a  pleas- 
ant face,  who  had  a  basket  of  bread  which  he  had  cut  in 
pieces,  to  serve  to  the  poor,  who  were  already  gathered 
round  the  door  waiting  for  their  daily  dole.  This  onice  of 
charity  is  the  only  one  which  redeems  the  monastery  from 
the  just  reproach  of  utter  uselessness,  and  even  this  is  a 
very  doubtful  good,  as  the  giving  of  alms  to  the  beggars 
at  their  gates  only  increases  the  hungry  horde,  and  thus 
swells  to  vaster  proportions  the  pauperism  which  already 
rests  as  a  terrible  incubus  on  the  life  of  Spain. 

Making  our  acknowledgments  to  our  conductor,  and 
slipping  a  coin  into  his  hand  (which  he  did  not  refuse, 
like  the  brother  in  the  monastery  at  the  house  of  Ignatius 
Loyola),  wTe  took  our  leave.  As  the  door  opened,  the 
beggars  made  a  rush,  not  for  the  door  or  the  basket  of 
bread,  but  for  us,  whining  and  moaning  and  begging  piti- 
fully for  alms.  So  combined  was  the  attack,  that  it  requir- 
ed some  effort  to  make  our  way  to  the  carriage.  Once  in 
our  seats,  I  tossed  a  handful  of  coppers  to  the  crowd,  at 
which  one  and  all,  men  and  women  and  little  children, 


WHAT  IS  IT  GOOD  FOR  NOAV?  77 

made  a  dive,  tumbling  over  one  another  in  their  eagerness 
for  a  few  pennies. 

Such  is  the  great  Carthusian  Monastery  of  Burgos, 
founded  by  Queen  Isabella,  and  which  to  her  was  sacred 
as  a  family  mausoleum.  But  when  she  died  she  was  not 
buried  here  beside  her  father  and  mother,  but  in  Granada, 
which  had  witnessed  the  conquest  of  the  Moors.  Since 
her  day  it  has  no  longer  served  as  a  royal  burying  place. 
The  Spanish  Kings  will  not  have  it  even  as  a  sepulchre. 
Its  occupation  is  gone,  so  that  we  can  but  ask,  as  we  take 
our  departure,  What  is  it  good  for  now  f  Of  what  use  is  it 
to  any  human  being  ? 

These  Carthusians  are  not  like  the  brave  monks  who 
keep  guard  at  the  Hospices  on  the  summits  of  the  Simplon 
and  the  Great  Saint  Bernard  to  succor  lost  travellers  :  nor 
even  like  the  Brothers  of  the  Miser ecordia,  who  may  be 
seen  in  the  streets  of  Florence,  or  Naples,  with  covered 
faces,  making  visits  to  the  sick,  or  burying  the  dead  :  they 
only  exist  to  keep  up  an  old  shrine  of  devotion.  Such  a 
system  is  out  of  place  in  the  nineteenth  century  :  it  has 
served  its  purpose,  and  now  its  last  and  best  use  is  to  die. 
The  life  of  solitude  and  seclusion,  even  if  it  be  a  life  of 
prayer,  is  not  that  which  best  fulfils  the  purpose  for  which 
we  were  sent  into  the  world.  The  cell  and  the  dungeon 
are  the  work  of  men ;  the  sunshine,  the  light  and  the  air, 
are  the  gift  of  God. 


CHAPTEK  VI. 

INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  CAPITAL. 

The  traveller  who  comes  to  Spain  to  see  the  country  at 
its  best — to  enjoy  both  the  scenery  and  the  climate  in  per- 
fection— should  defer  his  coming  till  the  Spring.  Or  if  he 
comes  in  "Winter,  let  him  begin  in  the  South,  for  which  he 
might  sail  from  New  York  directly  to  the  Mediterranean, 
and  land  at  Gibraltar.  He  will  then  enter  by  Andalusia, 
where  the  climate  differs  little  from  that  of  the  African 
coast  on  the  other  side  of  the  Straits.  In  Seville  the  air 
is  as  soft  and  balmy  as  on  the  Eiviera,  and  palms  are  grow- 
ing in  the  open  air ;  and  in  the  early  Spring  he  will  find 
the  nightingales  singing  in  the  woods  of  the  Alhambra. 
Thence  he  can  move  northward  by  easy  stages  to  Cordova, 
Toledo,  and  Madrid,  where  he  will  find  the  capital  in  its 
glory  in  the  month  of  May,  and  some  time  in  June  he  may 
cross  the  Pyrenees. 

But  if  his  object  be  not  so  much  to  see  beautiful  land- 
scapes and  bask  in  the  southern  sun,  as  to  study  the  gov- 
ernment and  people,  he  may  find  it  as  well  to  come,  as  I 
have  done,  in  Winter.  For  Madrid  especially,  this  is  in 
some  respects  the  best  season  :  for  if  the  trees  are  not  in 
full  leaf,  and  the  parks  look  bare  and  desolate,  it  has  other 


THE  PUERTA  DEL  SOL.  79 

attractions  as  the  capital  of  the  country.  The  Queen  is 
here  ;  the  Court  is  here  ;  the  Cabinet  is  here  ;  the  Cortes 
is  in  session ;  and  this  is  the  centre  of  the  political  life  of 
the  nation.  Nor  of  that  only  :  it  is  the  time  of  the  year 
when  all  the  schools  have  resumed  their  course,  and  stu- 
dents throng  the  streets  ;  when  the  University  is  open,  and 
the  professors  are  in  their  studies  and  their  laboratories. 
Thus  all  that  is  most  distinguished  in  the  literary  and  sci- 
entific, as  well  as  the  political,  world  of  Spain  is  now  gath- 
ered within  its  capital. 

I  have  been  here  a  fortnight,  and  have  come  to  feel 
quite  at  home.  I  have  become  accustomed  to  the  Spanish 
ways,  even  to  the  ringing  of  bells,  by  which  I  am  awakened 
every  morning,  which  reminds  me  that  I  am  in  a  Catholic 
country.  The  streets  have  grown  familiar.  We  are  in  the 
centre  of  everything  on  the  Puerta  del  Sol,  on  which 
fronts  the  Hotel  de  la  Paix.  This  is  the  heart  of  Madrid, 
the  central  point  of  the  spider's  web,  from  which  radiate 
all  the  principal  streets,  and  the  tramways  (!) — that  Amer- 
ican invention  which  has  made  its  way  into  every  capital 
in  Europe.  The  Puerta  del  Sol  is  not  only  the  geograph- 
ical centre  of  the  city,  but  the  centre  of  its  life,  the  place 
where  its  heart  beats,  into  which  all  streams  pour  and 
from  which  they  flow.  Hither  flock  the  gossip-loving  Mad- 
rilenos  on  Summer  nights  to  exchange  the  news  of  the 
day  by  the  pale  light  of  the  moon ;  to  talk  over  the  polit- 
ical situation  ;  to  discuss  with  the  same  eagerness  the  last 
bull-fight  or  the  last  emeute,  or  the  prospect  of  another. 
And  hither  too  they  flock  on  Winter  days  as  well  as  on 
Summer  nights,  though  now  they  wrap  their  cloaks  about 
them  to  protect  them  against  the  cold,  and  also  as  a  cos- 
tume peculiarly  befitting  their  Spanish  dignity.  Mingling 
in  this  bustling  crowd,  or  even  looking  down  upon  it  from 
our  windows,  we  begin  to  feel  as  if  we  were  a  part  of  it : 


80  VISIT  TO  CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 

for  even  though  we  may  not  understand  the  language,  we 
can  catch  a  few  words,  and  perceive  in  some  degree  the 
peculiar  temper  of  this  people,  so  full  of  pride,  in  which 
they  overtop  any  other  in  Europe  ;  haughty  and  reserved, 
and  yet  all  aglow  with  a  suppressed  fire,  which  may  flame 
out  at  any  moment  in  a  duel  or  an  insurrection. 

An  American  ought  to  feel  at  home  in  Spain,  as  it  is 
the  country  to  which  is  due  the  discovery  of  his  own,  and 
as  from  the  earliest  date  the  relations  of  the  two  have  been 
most  intimate.  I  have  had  a  new  sense  of  this,  since  I 
spent  an  hour  with  Christopher  Columbus,  the  lineal  de- 
scendant of  the  great  discoverer,  and  who  inherits  his  title 
with  his  immortal  name.  The  late  Secretary  of  Legation, 
to  whom  I  am  indebted,  as  are  many  of  my  countrymen, 
for  courtesies  in  Madrid,  took  me  to  see  the  Duke  of 
Veragua,  for  that  is  the  title  which  he  bears.  As  he  en- 
tered the  room,  he  saluted  us  with  great  warmth,  and  at 
once  seized  my  hat ! — a  motion  which  I  gently  resisted  ; 
but  as  he  still  held  it,  I  had  to  submit.  My  friend  told  me 
afterwards  that  this  was  a  mark  of  Spanish  courtesy  :  for 
had  my  host  permitted  me  to  sit  hat  in  hand,  it  would 
seem  to  imply  that  he  regarded  me  as  a  stranger,  who  had 
come  to  make  a  brief  and  formal  call ;  whereas  when  he 
took  it  from  me,  and  laid  it  aside  with  due  Castilian  grav- 
ity, it  signified  that  he  wished  me  to  regard  myself  as  at 
home,  and  that  (to  use  the  Spanish  phrase)  "his  house 
was  mine."  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  it  was  not  much  of 
a  hat :  for  it  had  been  sadly  battered  out  of  shape  in 
knocking  about  on  land  and  sea  ;  but  I  thought  it  acquired 
a  certain  dignity  from  having  been  held  in  the  hands  of 
Christopher  Columbus,  and  would  have  kept  it  as  an 
heirloom  in  the  family,  had  not  a  higher  authority  than 
mine  condemned  it  as  unworthy  to  cover  my  poor  head,  so 
that  it  had  to  go  to  the  bourne  from  which  no  hat  returns. 


PORTRAIT  OF  THE  GREAT  NAVIGATOR.  81 

With  this  cordial  welcome,  one  could  not  indeed  but 
feel  at  home  ;  and  as  we  sat  on  the  sofa  side  by  side, 
the  conversation  naturally  turned  to  subjects  in  which  we 
had  a  common  interest.  Every  American  is,  of  course, 
interested  in  the  discoverer  of  America,  and  would  pause 
long  before  what  might  claim  to  be  a  portrait  of  the  great 
navigator.  Our  host  had  found  what  he  regarded  as  the 
best  one  in  existence  in  an  old  monastery,  from  which  he 
obtained  it,  and  it  was  now  hanging  on  the  wall.  It  is  a 
noble  countenance,  some  features  of  which  have  been  per- 
petuated in  his  descendants,  and  may  be  recognized  in  the 
possessor  of  the  name  at  the  present  day.  One  cannot 
look  at  it  without  thinking  what  a  life  of  care  and  struggle 
had  left  its  traces  on  that  rugged  face  during  the  long  and 
weary  years  that  he  sought  for  royal  patronage,  and  sought 
in  vain.  It  is  no  common  feeling  which  rises  in  you  at  the 
moment  that  you  have  looking  down  upon  you  the  eyes 
that  first  saw  the  shores  of  the  New  World. 

Knowing  that  there  had  been  some  question  as  to  the 
burial-place  of  Columbus,  I  was  glad  to  be  able  to  make 
inquiry  of  one  who,  of  all  men  living,  was  most  likely  to 
be  rightly  informed,  and  to  hear  him  say  that  he  thought 
there  could  be  no  doubt  that  the  remains  of  his  ancestor 
were  in  the  Cathedral  of  Havana.  This  is  as  it  ought  to 
be  :  for  though  he  died  in  Spain  (in  Valladolid,  May  20, 
1506),  the  country  to  which  he  had  given  a  hemisphere, 
and  yet  to  which  he  was  once  brought  back  in  chains,  was 
not  worthy  to  keep  his  bones  ;  and  it  was  most  fitting  that 
they  should  be  carried  across  the  ocean,  to  rest  forever  in 
the  New  World  which  he  had  discovered. 

The  mention  of  Havana  led  us  to  speak  of  Cuba — a 
subject  on  which  every  Spaniard  is  sensitive,  and  to  which 
the  present  Columbus  clings  with  Spanish  pride  as  the 
last  and  greatest  possession  which  Spain  holds  in  that  far- 


82     CELEBRATION1  OF  THE  DISCOVERY  OF  AMERICA. 

distant  land  which  his  forefather  was  the  first  to  see.  He 
said  that  Spain  would  never  give  up  Cuba  ;  that  no  power 
should  take  it  from  her,  and  no  money  could  buy  it ;  that 
slie  would  hold  it  if  it  took  her  last  dollar  and  her  last 
drop  of  blood ! 

Turning  the  conversation  to  the  projected  celebration 
of  the  four  hundredth  anniversary  of  the  discovery  of 
America,  I  told  him  that  he  ought  on  that  occasion  to  pay 
us  a  visit,  and  to  see  for  himself  how  great  was  that  West- 
ern Hemisphere  which  his  ancestor  had  brought  to  the 
knowledge  of  mankind.  But  he  has  all  a  Spaniard's  dis- 
inclination to  leave  his  own  country,  and  thinks  that  the 
celebration  should  be  in  Spain,  from  which  Columbus 
sailed,  rather  than  in  the  islands  or  the  continent  that  he 
discovered  beyond  the  sea.  I  could  not  but  feel  that  there 
was  a  good  deal  of  reason  in  what  he  said.  If  there  is 
to  be  indeed  a  grand  Festival  of  the  Nations — a  sort  of 
Thanksgiving  in  which  two  Hemispheres  unite — is  it  not 
fitting  that  the  children  should  go  back  to  the  old  home 
and  the  old  hearthstone,  rather  than  that  the  mother  coun- 
try should  come  to  the  new  ?  However  it  may  be  arranged, 
every  one  of  us  must  desire  that  Spain  should  know  that 
America  (which  ought  to  have  been  called  Columbia  in 
honor  of  Columbus)  does  not  forget  what  it  owes  to  the 
great  navigator  who  sailed  from  her  shores,  or  to  the 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella  who  sent  him  forth  on  his  voyage 
of  discovery. 

It  is  a  pleasant  reflection  to  an  American  coming  to 
Spain,  that  the  relations  of  the  two  countries  have  always 
been  friendly.  We  have  had  two  wars  with  England — 
that  of  Independence  and  that  of  1812  (so  sad  it  is  that 
those  of  the  same  kindred  and  blood  will  sometimes  quar- 
rel)— but  with  Spain,  while  our  relations  have  been  far 
less  close  and  intimate,  our  mutual  good  understanding 


RELATIONS  OF  SPAIN  TO  AMERICA.  83 

has  never  been  interrupted.  Perhaps  it  has  been  in  part 
for  the  very  reason  that  we  have  not  been  in  such  close 
proximity  and  such  constant  intercourse,  \vhich  might 
have  caused  difficult  questions  to  arise,  but  I  must  think 
it  is  also  partly  due  to  the  wisdom  of  our  government  in 
selecting  its  representatives.  In  this  respect  our  country 
has  been  singularly  fortunate  from  the  days  of  Alexander 
Everett  (chosen  for  this  post  by  John  Quincy  Adams)  and 
Washington  Irving.  Of  late  Ministers,  Mr.  Lowell  was 
honored  in  Madrid,  as  he  was  afterwards  in  London,  both 
by  the  government  to  which  he  came  and  by  scholars  and 
literary  men.  Hannibal  Hamlin,  who  was  here  but  a  few 
months,  was  looked  up  to  with  the  veneration  due  to  an 
old  man  of  noble  presence,  who  had  been  Vice-President 
of  the  United  States  when  Mr.  Lincoln  was  President. 
Our  late  Minister,  Mr.  Foster,  I  hear  spoken  of  everywhere 
with  a  degree  of  respect  united  with  a  personal  regard, 
which  is  very  gratifying.  It  is  only  necessary  to  mention 
his  name  as  that  of  a  friend,  to  be  introduced  at  once  to 
the  courtesies  of  the  best  people  in  Madrid. 

This  honorable  line  of  diplomatic  representatives  has  a 
worthy  successor  in  our  present  Minister,  Hon.  J.  L.  M. 
Curry,  of  Richmond,  Virginia.  To  me  it  is  no  objection 
that  he  was  on  the  other  side  in  our  late  civil  war.  I 
think  the  time  has  come  when  leading  men  of  the  South- 
ern States  should  have  their  place  in  the  general  govern- 
ment, if  the  South  is  to  be,  not  a  detached  fragment  of  our 
country,  lately  broken  off  from  it,  and  with  the  rent  but 
partially  restored,  but  a  constituent  part  of  an  indissoluble 
Union.  I  have  found  by  personal  observation  that  many 
of  the  very  best  men  in  the  South  were  those  who  fought 
the  hardest  against  us  ;  and  having  been  among  them, 
having  eaten  of  their  bread  and  drunk  of  their  cup,  God 
forbid  that  I  should  say  one  word  against  them.  When 


84  THE  AMERICAN   MINISTER. 

our  bravest  leaders,  when  Grant  and  Sherman  and  Sheri- 
dan, accept  the  loyalty  of  Southern  men  and  Southern  sol- 
diers, as  offered  in  perfect  good  faith,  it  ill  becomes  us  to 
revive  bitter  hatreds,  or  even  painful  memories.  Mr.  Curry 
is  not  only  a  man  of  the  highest  character,  but  a  most 
efficient  administrator.  For  five  years  before  he  resigned 
to  accept  a  foreign  post,  he  was  the  manager  of  the  great 
trust  left  by  the  late  George  Peabody  for  the  promotion  of 
education  in  the  Southern  States  ;  and  with  what  signal 
ability  he  fulfilled  its  responsibilities,  all  who  were  asso- 
ciated with  him  in  the  Board  (which  includes  such  men  as 
Ex-President  Hayes,  Mr.  Evarts,  and  Kobert  C.  Y/inthrop) 
will  testify.  A  man  of  such  proved  capacity  for  public 
affairs,  was  just  the  one  to  be  entrusted  with  a  diplomatic 
position,  the  duties  of  which  are  often  of  the  most  delicate 
kind,  requiring  not  only  a  thorough  mastery  of  public 
questions,  but  tact  and  judgment,  wisdom  and  discretion. 

Added  to  all  this  is  the  social  influence  which  our  new 
Minister  has  acquired.  He  is  a  great  favorite,  not  only  in 
official  circles,  but  in  Spanish  society,  in  which  he  is  aided 
by  his  admirable  wife.  Living  in  very  handsome  style  (far 
beyond  what  his  salary  affords,  but  the  deficiency  of  which 
he  supplies  from  his  private  means),  he  entertains  gener- 
ously. At  his  table  I  have  met  Members  of  .the  Cabinet, 
Foreign  Ministers,  and  officials  of  the  Palace,  while  his 
weekly  receptions  bring  together  a  large  representation 
of  the  best  circles  in  Madrid. 

Some  may  think  this  going  beyond  the  letter  of  his 
instructions  or  the  sphere  of  his  duties,  but  such  hasty 
critics  understand  but  little  the  country  with  which  he  has 
to  do.  No  people  in  the  world  are  more  influenced  than 
the  Spaniards  by  such  courtesies,  which  often  smooth  the 
way  to  the  successful  negotiation  of  public  affairs.  Even 
a  stranger  can  see  this.  One  day  Mr.  Curry  took  me  to 


SIR  CLARE  FORD.  85 

the  Foreign  Office,  to  introduce  me  to  Senor  Moret,  the 
Secretary  of  State,  who  is  one  of  the  first  men  in  Spain, 
and  it  was  easy  to  see  at  a  glance  that  the  two  men  were 
in  relations,  not  only  of  business,  but  of  personal  friend- 
ship ;  and  after  a  half-hour  of  conversation,  I  could  not 
help  saying  to  the  distinguished  Secretary,  "So  long  as 
you  are  in  charge  of  the  Foreign  Affairs  of  Spain,  and  we 
are  so  fortunate  as  to  have  such  a  Minister  as  we  have 
now,  I  am  sure  there  can  be  no  difference  between  our 
two  countries " — a  sentiment  to  which  he  responded  very 
warmly,  so  far  as  it  expressed  what  he  felt  to  be  no  undue 
praise  to  the  American  Minister. 

And  here  I  must  add  my  personal  acknowledgment  for 
all  the  courtesies  which  I  received  from  the  same  source. 
Although  I  had  seen  Mr.  Curry  but  once  in  my  life  (and 
that  was  ten  years  ago  in  Cairo,  when  he  was  going  to 
Jerusalem  and  I  to  India),  he  has  been  as  thoughtful  and 
as  kind  as  if  I  had  been  an  old  friend  ;  and  to  him  and  his 
wife,  and  I  must  not  forget  to  add,  to  the  accomplished 
Secretary  of  Legation,  Mr.  Stroebel,  I  owe  very  much  of 
the  pleasure  of  my  visit  to  Madrid,  for  which  I  shall 
always  hold  them  in  grateful  remembrance. 

Next  to  them  in  kindness  has  been  the  British  Minis- 
ter, Sir  Clare  Ford,  who  inherits  a  distinguished  name. 
He  is  a  son  of  the  man  who  wrote  the  famous  Handbook 
of  Spain,  which  though  it  appeared  a  generation  ago,  is  to 
this  day  the  best  authority.  Some  months  since  my  friend, 
Eev.  J.  C.  Fletcher  of  Naples,  learning  that  I  was  coming 
to  Spain,  wrote  to  me  that  Prescott,  the  historian,  once 
said  to  him  that  "the  only  man  whose  criticisms  he  feared 
was  Ford,  inasmuch  as  he  was  of  all  men  living  the  most 
thorough  master  of  Spanish  history."  His  son  inherits  his 
knowledge  of  Spain  and  of  the  language,  with  which  he 
became  familiar  long  since  in  South  America,  in  Buenos 


86  THE  BRITISH  MINISTER. 

Ayres  and  Brazil.  He  is  one  of  those  Englishmen  who 
have  been  trained  to  diplomacy  as  a  profession,  as  a  grad- 
uate of  Oxford  is  trained  for  holy  orders  or  to  the  bar,  and 
whom  their  government,  wiser  than  ours,  retains  in  office 
under  all  changes  of  administration  at  home,  and  by  whom 
therefore  England  is  so  admirably  served.  As  he  had  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  the  British  Secretary  for  Foreign 
Affairs,  introducing  me,  he  seemed  to  consider  me  as 
"committed  to  his  care,"  and  was  indeed  most  kind  in 
every  way  ;  getting  me  tickets  to  go  everywhere,  and  com- 
ing in  his  own  carriage  to  take  me  to  the  Museum,  which 
contains  one  of  the  most  celebrated  picture  galleries  in 
Europe  (some  think  it  surpasses  any  in  Eome  or  Florence) ; 
conducting  me  from  room  to  room,  and  pointing  out  (as 
he  is  a  connoisseur  and  indeed  somewhat  of  an  artist 
himself)  the  most  notable  pictures.  I  was  always  welcome 
at  the  Legation,  and  we  came  to  be  such  friends  that  I  felt 
quite  at  liberty  to  accuse  him  gently  of  the  only  ill  turn 
he  had  ever  done  to  my  country.  As  he  had  been  in 
Washington,  and  was  familiar  with  transatlantic  affairs,  he 
was  chosen  by  his  government  to  argue  its  case  before  the 
Board  of  Arbitration  which  sat  at  Halifax  to  consider  its 
claims  for  damages  in  the  matter  of  the  fisheries,  a  Board 
which  decided  against  us,  and  adjudged  the  United  States 
to  pay  five  millions  of  dollars !  This  was  rather  a  bitter 
pill  for  us,  elated  as  we  had  been  with  the  result  of  the 
Arbitration  at  Geneva  of  the  claims  for  losses  by  the  Ala- 
bama. We  had  many  a  joke  about  it.  "If  we  had  only 
had  you  for  our  counsel,"  I  said,  "  we  should  not  have  had 
to  pay  that  money."  However,  I  forgave  him,  seeing  that 
he  was  one  of  the  kindest  men  in  the  world,  telling  him 
"After  all,  it  was  no  matter  :  it  was  all  in  the  family " ; 
and  that  "if  ice  had  to  pay  Jive  millions,  they  had  to  pay 
fifteen  for  the  damages  caused  by  the  Alabama! "  all  which 


THE  FRENCH  AMBASSADOR.  87 

lie  took  in  the  best  part.  No  one  could  be  more  cordial 
than  this  noble-hearted  Englishman,  and  not  content  with 
my  having  a  good  time  in  Madrid,  he  proposed  when  I 
should  go  away  to  pass  me  on  to  the  Governor  of  Gibral- 
tar, and  the  British  Consuls  along  the  Mediterranean. 

To  these  kind  American  and  English  ministers  must  be 
added  one  of  another  country,  who  also  understands  in 
perfection  the  fine  art  of  courtesy.  A  year  ago  my  friend, 
Mr.  Elie  Charlier  of  New  York,  spent  a  part  of  the  "Winter 
in  Algiers  and  Tunis,  where  he  found  some  old  friends  and 
made  many  new  ones.  The  Kesident  of  Tunis  was  partic- 
ularly kind  to  him,  so  that  an  intimacy  and  friendship  grew 
up  between  the  two  families  ;  and  when  I  was  about  to 
depart  for  the  same  quarter  of  the  world,  he  gave  me  a 
letter  of  introduction.  But  on  arriving  in  Paris,  I  learned 
from  the  public  journals  that  the  Resident  of  Tunis  had 
been  summoned  home,  and  a  few  days  later  his  name  was 
gazetted  as  the  French  Ambassador  to  Spain.  He  passed 
through  Pau  at  the  very  moment  I  was  there,  and  we 
reached  Madrid  about  the  same  time.  I  saw  him  at  a  dis- 
tance on  the  day  that  he  went  for  the  first  time  to  be  pre- 
sented to  the  Queen,  when  he  was  conveyed  with  his  suite 
from  the  Embassy  to  the  Palace  and  back  again  in  three 
royal  coaches,  such  as  were  used  in  the  time  of  Louis  XIV., 
of  enormous  size,  covered  with  gold,  each  drawn  by  six 
horses  richly  caparisoned,  led  by  men  on  foot  dressed  in 
the  fantastic  style  of  a  former  century.  Truly,  "  Solomon 
in  all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these  "  Ambas- 
sadors. But  his  glory  did  not  make  the  new  Ambassa- 
dor forget  his  old  friends,  and  my  letter  of  introduction 
brought  an  immediate  invitation  to  the  Embassy  where 
he  received  me  with  true  French  warmth,  which  was  fol- 
lowed by  still  further  courtesies  ;  and  then,  since  he  could 
not  be  in  Africa  to  receive  me,  he  sent  me  letters  of  intro- 


88  OTHER  FOREIGN  RESIDENTS. 

duction  to  the  Governor  of  Algeria,  to  the  Prefect  of  Con- 
stantine,  to  his  own  successor  in  Tunis,  and  to  others  still 
who  could  be  of  service  to  me  on  the  Barbary  coast.  Thus 
"  the  lines  have  fallen  unto  me  in  pleasant  places,"  nothing 
in  life  being  more  pleasant  than  to  meet  with  such  unex- 
pected kindness  in  a  land  of  strangers. 

Outside  of  these  official  and  diplomatic  circles,  the  for- 
eign community  in  Madrid  is  not  large,  but  it  includes 
some  men  who  are  well  worth  knowing.  Mr.  Houghton, 
the  correspondent  of  the  London  "  Standard  "  and  of  the 
Paris  "  Temps,"  is  one  of  those  trained  journalists  sent  by 
the  London  press  to  all  the  capitals  of  Europe  to  collect 
the  news  of  current  events,  and  to  furnish  the  fullest  and 
most  accurate  reports  not  only  to  England,  but  to  the 
whole  English-reading  world.  During  the  Carlist  War  he 
was  in  camp  with  the  Spanish  army,  since  which  (that  is, 
for  the  last  ten  years)  he  has  lived  in  Madrid,  where,  speak- 
ing Spanish  like  a  Spaniard,  he  is  perfectly  at  home  ;  and 
being  personally  acquainted  with  almost  every  public  man 
in  Spain,  and  familiar  with  the  whole  course  of  Spanish 
politics,  he  is  probably  as  good  an  authority  as  any  man 
living  on  the  affairs  of  the  Peninsula. 

Nor  will  I  forget  my  own  profession,  as  represented  in 
an  Englishman,  a  Scotchman,  and  a  German :  The  Rev. 
Mr.  Whereat,  the  Chaplain  of  the  British  Embassy  ;  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Jameson,  a  fine  specimen  of  the  Scotchman,  who 
has  lived  here  so  many  years  that  he  is  "  as  good  as  a 
native,"  though  his  heart  clings  to  the  stern  faith  and  sim- 
ple worship  of  his  fathers ;  and  Pastor  Miedner,  the  Chap- 
lain of  the  German  Embassy,  who  speaks  half  a  dozen  lan- 
guages, and  carries  in  his  head  so  much  historical  lore, 
both  of  Germany  and  of  Spain,  and  so  much  varied  infor- 
mation of  all  kinds,  that  it  is  a  perpetual  delight  to  listen 
to  his  conversation. 


SOCIETY  IN  MADRID—THE  UNIVERSITY.  89 

It  is  often  said  that  there  is  no  society  in  Madrid. 
This  may  be  true  in  the  sense  that  there  is  not  so  much 
giving  of  dinners  and  parties  as  in  Paris  or  London.  But 
there  are  certainly,  if  I  may  judge  by  my  own  experience, 
men  and  women  who  draw  around  them  circles  of  intelli- 
gence and  refinement,  which  are  the  delight  of  a  scholar  or 
a  literary  man.  One  charming  interior  I  have  now  in  mind, 
in  which  Mr.  Lowell  was  wont  to  find  himself  more  at 
home  than  in  any  other  in  Madrid,  where  books  piled  to 
the  ceiling  (as  one  might  have  seen  them  in  the  library 
of  Dean  Stanley)  attest  the  tastes  of  the  occupants ;  and 
where,  privileged  as  I  have  been  to  sit  in  the  same  room, 
and,  looking  out  upon  the  same  Park,  to  listen  to  the  con- 
versation of  the  gifted  lady  who  presides  over  the  place, 
I  have  felt  that  I  was  in  the  same  atmosphere  that  per- 
vades the  most  refined  and  cultivated  homes  of  England. 

Another  influence  which  affects  powerfully  the  intel- 
lectual life  of  Madrid,  is  that  of  the  University.  I  am 
ashamed  to  say  how  ignorant  I  was  of  the  state  of  learn- 
ing in  Spain.  Of  course  it  is  not  what  it  once  was.  The 
day  has  long  gone  by  when  scholars  from  beyond  the  Apen- 
nines, having  exhausted  the  resources  of  their  own  coun- 
tries, had  to  complete  their  studies  in  the  Universities  of 
Cordova  or  Salamanca.  To-day  the  thing  is  reversed,  and 
Spain  is  far  behind  France  and  Germany.  And  yet  Madrid 
has  its  University,  which,  with  its  ninety  professors  and  its 
five  or  six  thousand  students,  holds  no  mean  place  among 
the  Universities  of  the  Continent.  Here  were  educated  a 
large  proportion  of  those  who  are  to-day  the  leaders  in 
Spain,  where  many  of  them  obtained  not  only  their  knowl- 
edge of  science,  but  their  liberal  political  opinions.  Cas- 
telar  was  a  Professor  of  History  here  ;  so  was  Moret,  now 
Secretary  of  State,  and  others,  whose  names  still  stand  on 
the  rolls  of  the  University,  where  they  are  retained  as  a 


90  THE   ATHENEUM   CLUB. 

matter  of  pride,  even  though  they  may  be  no  longer  able 
to  undertake  the  duties  of  instruction. 

Still  another  element  of  the  growing  intellectual  life  of 
the  capital,  is  furnished  by  its  literary  club,  the  Atheneum, 
to  which  Mr.  Jameson  took  me  one  evening  ;  where  I  was 
surprised  at  the  size  of  the  building  and  the  completeness 
of  its  appointments  ;  with  its  spacious  reading-room,  in 
which  one  may  find  all  the  leading  journals  of  Europe ; 
and  more  than  all,  at  the  character  of  those  of  whom  it  is 
composed.  It  has  eight  hundred  members,  among  whom 
are  most  of  the  men  who  are  eminent  in  any  department 
of  public  life — Cabinet  ministers,  Senators  and  Deputies, 
advocates  and  journalists,  authors  and  artists.  This  tall, 
spare  man  to  whom  my  friend  introduces  me,  is  Figuerola, 
who  was  once  Prime  Minister ;  and  this  the  leader  of  the 
Free  Trade  party  in  Spain — both  of  whom  spoke  with  a 
very  warm  feeling  of  America.  Thus  men  of  opposite  par- 
ties in  politics  and  religion,  come  together  under  one  roof ; 
they  meet  on  common  ground,  and  enjoy  equal  freedom 
in  the  expression  of  their  opinions,  in  which  Spaniards 
exercise  to  the  full  their  new-found  liberty.  One  feature 
it  has  which  I  have  not  seen  in  any  club  elsewhere,  viz  : 
a  hall  for  discussion,  where  once  or  twice  in  the  week 
there  are  regular  debates.  The  evening  that  I  was  present 
the  subject  was  Parliamentary  Government — a  topic  which 
opened  a  wide  field,  and  on  which  Republicans  and  Mon- 
archists spoke  with  equal  boldness. 


CHAPTEK  VH. 

THE  QUEEN  REGENT  AND  THE  LITTLE  KING. 

In  the  gay  Spanish  capital,  the  most  important  person- 
age, the  centre  of  all  e}res  and  all  hearts,  is  of  course  the 
widowed  Queen,  the  mother  of  the  future  King  of  Spain. 
In  all  the  royal  houses  of  Europe  there  is  not  a  more 
touching  figure  than  that  of  this  young  mother,  clad  in 
deep  mourning,  holding  in  her  arms  a  child  that  was  not 
yet  born  when  the  father  was  laid  in  the  grave.  It  is  little 
more  than  a  year  since  King  Alfonso  died  :  the  anniversary 
occurred  a  few  weeks  since,  and  it  recalled  sad  and  pain- 
ful memories.  He  was  by  no  means  a  great  King,  nor 
altogether  a  good  King  :  how  could  he  be,  of  such  a  royal 
race,  and  coming  to  the  throne  when  he  was  a  boy  of  sev- 
enteen ?  But  considering  all  that  was  against  him,  he  did 
not  only  as  well  as  could  be  expected,  but  a  great  deal 
better  ;  so  that  he  made  himself  beloved  while  he  lived, 
and  was  sincerely  mourned  when  he  died. 

Nor  was  he  by  any  means  a  pattern  in  his  domestic  life. 
Like  many  other  royal  husbands,  he  was  inconstant  in  his 
devotion,  and  gave  too  much  of  his  time,  if  not  of  his 
heart,  to  ladies  of  his  court  or  capital.  There  was  a  time 
when  Madrid  was  full  of  the  scandals  of  his  amours,  by 


92  THE  DEATH  OF  ALFONSO. 

which  the  Queen  was  so  outraged  that  she  took  the  two 
little  princesses,  as  a  mother-eagle  snatches  up  her  young 
under  her  wings,  and  indignantly  left  Spain,  and  fled  back 
to  her  own  country,  to  the  protection  of  her  father,  a  bro- 
ther of  the  Emperor  of  Austria.  But  a  few  months  of  this 
voluntary  exile  brought  the  King  to  his  knees,  and  the 
cruel  wrongs  that  he  had  done  to  the  heart  that  loved  him 
were  repented  of  and  forgiven,  and  the  later  life  of  the 
royal  couple  was  most  affectionate  and  happy  ;  so  that 
when  he  was  on  his  death-bed,  and  she  bent  over  him, 
knowing  that  it  was  for  the  last  time,  all  her  woman's 
heart  gushed  forth  in  tenderness  and  tears. 

Alfonso  was  dead !  The  officials  of  the  Palace  gathered 
round  him,  and  after  the  ancient  Spanish  custom,  called 
Senor !  Senor !  but  he  gave  no  answer  ;  and  so  they  bore 
him  away  with  funereal  pomp  to  the  Escorial,  on  the  side 
of  the  Guadarrama  Mountains,  to  sleep  in  the  sepulchre 
of  kings. 

When  all  was  over,  the  Queen  found  herself  alone,  and 
never  was  human  being  more  desolate.  Her  position  was 
truly  pitiful.  It  was  nothing  that  she  was  in  a  Palace, 
surrounded  by  the  pomp  of  a  court.  She  was  not  among 
her  own  kindred,  in  her  father's  house,  nor  even  in  her 
own  country.  The  companions  of  her  early  life,  who 
would  have  loved  her  and  cherished  her,  were  far  away 
beyond  the  Pyrenees  and  beyond  the  Alps.  Accustomed 
to  speak  another  language,  it  would  have  been  a  solace  in 
those  hours  of  sadness  if,  instead  of  Spanish  maids  of 
honor,  she  could  have  had  nearest  to  her  those  who  spoke 
her  own  native  tongue.  But  in  all  around  her  she  had 
none  to  lean  upon,  and  almost  none  to  love. 

Besides,  her  own  position  was  as  yet  undefined.  Though 
a  Queen,  she  was  not  the  sovereign:  she  was  only  the 
widow  of  the  King.  The  interregnum  was  one  of  great 


THE  QUEEN  CHOSEN  REGENT.  93 

anxiety  to  the  Government,  which  was  in  fear  of  a  revolu- 
tion. The  country  that  had  been  loyal  to  a  Spanish  King 
might  not  be  so  ready  to  submit  to  an  Austrian  Queen. 
But  at  this  moment  of  painful  suspense  (such  are  the 
surprises  of  history),  weakness  itself  became  a  source  of 
strength,  as  feminine  helplessness  appealed  to  manly  cour- 
age and  strength,  and  the  widow  of  Alfonso  was  chosen 
Queen  Regent  of  Spain. 

Mr.  Curry  tells  me  that  he  was  present  in  the  Cortes 
when  she  appeared  to  take  the  oath,  and  he  never  wit- 
nessed a  more  touching  scene.  The  Chamber  was  crowded 
with  all  that  was  greatest  in  Spain — the  high  officers  of 
Government,  Senators  and  Deputies,  and  the  defend- 
ers of  the  country,  her  military  chieftains,  some  of  them 
bronzed  and  scarred  from  many  wars.  It  was  a  moment 
of  intense  emotion  when  the  door  opened  and  a  figure  in 
deep  mourning  entered  and  stood  in  the  midst  of  this 
brilliant  assemblage.  There  was  a  stillness  as  of  death  as 
she  answered  in  a  low  voice  to  the  oath  which  bound  her 
to  protect  sacredly  the  rights  and  the  liberties  of  Spain. 
Then  truly  weakness  proved  strength.  It  had  seemed  as 
if  Spain  were  leaning  on  a  slender  reed ;  but  such  is  the 
chivalrous  feeling  of  this  people  that  the  sight  of  that 
young  and  widowed  Queen  at  once  took  them  captive. 
"When  she  withdrew,  she  had  gained  the  victory.  The 
wroman  had  proved  stronger  than  a  man,  for  she  had  con- 
quered the  hearts  of  the  people.  From  that  moment  she 
was  a  sovereign  indeed,  with  a  brave  and  loyal  nation 
around  her. 

This  action  of  the  Government,  as  it  fixed  the  position 
of  the  Queen  in  the  State,  gave  her  a  place  in  the  royal 
house  of  Spain  which  could  not  be  disputed,  and  made 
her,  with  her  preceding  sorrow,  softened  in  manner,  in 
disposition,  and  in  character.  Her  private  secretary, 


94  BECOMES  MORE  GRACIOUS. 

Count  Morphy,  whom  I  met  at  Sir  Clare  Ford's,  told  me 
that  since  the  King's  death,  the  Queen  had  changed  very 
much ;  that  there  was  in  her  manner  a  peculiar  gentle- 
ness such  as  those  about  her  had  not  known  before.  In 
her  first  years  in  Madrid  she  had  seemed  cold  and  distant, 
and  many  of  those  who  were  presented  at  the  Palace, 
thought  her  very  ungracious.  When  there  were  guests  at 
the  royal  table,  instead  of  trying  to  entertain  them,  she 
would  converse  apart  in  German,  as  if  she  preferred  that 
language  and  people  to  those  of  her  adopted  country,  and 
indeed  it  was  said  she  sometimes  made  fun  of  the  grave 
Spanish  hidalgos — which  was  of  course  a  mortal  offence  to 
Castilian  pride.  In  those  days  it  could  not  be  said  that 
the  Queen  was  much  loved. 

But  this  irritability  was  partly  explained  by  the  fact 
that  she  was  not  happy,  the  reasons  for  which  were  mani- 
fold. Besides  the  conduct  of  the  King,  which  gave  her  so 
much  pain,  it  was  said  that  the  King's  sisters  did  not  like 
her :  she  was  a  foreigner  ;  she  had  not  the  blue  Spanish 
blood  in  her  veins  ;  and  so  the  daughters  of  Isabella  took 
a  certain  pleasure  in  making  her  feel  that  she  was  not  one 
of  them.  All  this  was  changed  by  the  King's  death,  when 
instead  of  standing  in  his  shadow,  she  stepped  to  the 
front,  and  as  Queen  Regent  became  the  first  personage 
in  the  realm.  Then  if  she  had  given  way  to  her  natural 
resentments,  she  had  full  opportunity  for  that  which  a 
woman  of  rank  sometimes  feels  to  be  the  greatest  pleasure 
in  life — to  snub  those  who  have  snubbed  her !  It  is  to  her 
honor  that  she  forebore  indulging  in  this  sweet  revenge, 
but  returned  good  for  evil,  kindness  for  coldness ;  while 
in  her  intercourse  with  others  she  won  all  hearts  by  an 
expression  of  countenance  that  was  better  than  beauty,  in 
which  a  natural  grace  and  dignity  took  on  that  tender  and 
appealing  look  which  comes  only  from  a  great  sorrow. 


A  KING   IS  BORN.  95 

And  now  was  coming  into  her  life  something  that  was  to 
change  her  still  more.  In  the  oath  which  sire  took  before 
the  Cortes  as  Queen  Kegent,  there  was  one  very  singular 
clause,  which  pledged  her  to  guard  sacredly  the  rights  of 
her  own  child  (what  an  oath  for  a  mother !)  as  yet  unborn  ! 
This  recognized  what  had  been  whispered  in  Madrid,  that 
she  might  yet  give  birth  to  one  who,  if  a  son,  would  be 
the  rightful  heir  to  the  throne  of  Spain.  What  the  child 
should  prove,  was  a  subject  of  great  anxiety  to  all  con- 
nected with  the  Government,  as  the  event  might  have  an 
important  bearing  on  the  future  of  the  kingdom. 

As  the  time  approached,  all  the  members  of  the  Diplo- 
matic Corps  in  Madrid  were  notified  to  hold  themselves  in 
readiness  to  be  summoned  to  the  Palace  at  a  moment's 
notice.  The  hour  arrived,  and  they  came  in  a  body  in  full 
court  dress,  brilliant  with  stars  and  decorations,  and  were 
introduced  into  an  apartment  adjoining  the  royal  bed- 
chamber, which  had  but  a  single  door  for  entrance  or  egress, 
so  that  there  could  be  no  possibility  of  introducing  a  sup- 
posititious child. 

Here  they  waited  until  at  length  a  faint  cry  was  heard, 
and  instantly  the  Prime  Minister,  Sagasta,  emerged  with  a 
beaming  countenance,  exclaiming  "  Viva  el  Key  !  "  [Long 
live  the  King!],  followed  a  moment  after  by  an  official, 
bringing,  as  John  the  Baptist's  head  was  brought,  "  on  a 
charger  "  the  little  morsel  of  humanity  that  was  such  an 
object  of  interest  to  a  whole  kingdom.  This  was  passed 
round  the  circle  to  be  inspected,  like  some  curious  speci- 
men in  natural  history,  by  every  foreign  representative  : 
from  the  Papal  Nuncio  and  the  French  Ambassador  to 
the  Ministers  of  England,  Germany,  Austria,  Italy,  Russia, 
and  the  United  States  ;  and  even  from  the  Spanish-speak- 
ing countries  of  South  America ;  that  all  might  be  able 
henceforth  to  bear  witness  that  a  man-child  had  been 


96  HE  IS  BAPTIZED. 

born  into  the  world,  and  that  he  was  of  the  blood-royal 
of  Spain ! 

Of  course,  with  our  American  ideas,  all  this  seems  very 
childish  and  absurd,  and  yet  it  is  not  so  in  a  country  where 
there  is  a  hereditary  monarchy  :  for  if  there  is  to  be  a  King 
at  all,  there  must  be  some  way  of  deciding  who  is  the  right- 
ful heir  to  the  throne.  If  it  is  left  to  the  officials  of  the 
Palace,  there  is  room  for  fraud  and  imposture.  Even  in 
sober  England  representatives  of  the  Government,  we  be- 
lieve, have  always  been  present  at  the  birth  of  the  children 
of  Queen  Victoria.  The  elder  ones  had  their  royal  lineage 
attested  by  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  Such  precautions 
must  be  taken  ;  otherwise  there  may  arise  a  War  of  Suc- 
cession, such  as  has  disturbed  the  peace  of  almost  every 
kingdom  in  Europe.  The  Spanish  War  of  Succession  was 
one  of  the  most  terrible  in  her  history. 

Hardly  had  this  little  creature  crept  into  existence,  even 
while  his  half-opened  eyes  were  blinking  in  the  light  that 
streamed  through  the  Palace  windows,  before  he  became 
the  leading  figure  in  the  State.  From  the  very  instant  that 
the  thunder  of  cannon  announced  to  the  expectant  capital 
the  birth  of  an  heir  to  the  throne,  he  was  the  King,  and 
his  royal  mother  ruled  only  in  his  name.  In  a  few  days 
came  the  august  ceremony  of  baptism,  when  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Toledo,  the  Primate  of  all  Spain,  in  presence  of 
a  great  assemblage  of  civil  and  ecclesiastical  dignitaries, 
gave  him  the  holy  chrism  ;  anointing  him  with  oil,  touching 
his  eyes  that  he  might  see,  and  the  tips  of  his  ears  that  he 
might  hear,  and  his  lips  that  he  might  speak  only  words 
of  truth  and  wisdom ;  and,  calling  over  him  the  name  of 
the  Trinity,  received  him  into  the  bosom  of  the  Holy 
Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church. 

Of  course  from  the  hour  that  he  was  born,  the  King 
was  an  object  of  immense  interest  to  the  Spanish  people. 


HE  REVIEWS  THE  TROOPS  !  97 

All  his  little  ailments  were  subjects  of  animated  conver- 
sation, not  only  among  the  ladies  of  the  Court,  but  in 
the  fashionable  circles  of  Madrid ;  and  a  friend  tells  me 
how  at  a  brilliant  reception  an  official  of  the  Palace  ap- 
peared with  a  joy  in  his  countenance  that  could  hardly 
be  expressed,  as  he  exclaimed  aloud  to  the  astonished  com- 
pany, "  The  King  has  a  tooth ! "  This  of  course  provokes 
a  smile  ;  and  yet,  after  all,  more  than  one  prince  has  died 
from  teething,  and  a  people  may  well  be  anxious  when  an 
attack  of  the  measles  may  decide  the  fate  of  the  monarchy. 

The  little  scion  of  royalty  had  not  attained  many 
months  before  he  was  presented  in  public :  was  brought 
out  on  the  balcony  of  the  Palace,  not  only  that  he  might 
hear  the  military  bands  playing  in  the  court  below,  but 
that  the  army  might  pass  before  him,  horse,  foot,  and  dra- 
goons, sometimes  to  the  number  of  ten  thousand  men, 
going  through  all  their  military  evolutions,  infantry  march- 
ing and  cavalry  prancing — all  which  the  King  surveyed 
with  a  military  eye  ;  while  the  high  officers  of  the  Gov- 
ernment kept  their  gravity,  and  looked  on  with  unmoved 
countenance. 

But  the  attempt  to  have  the  little  King  give  audiences, 
was  not  always  successful.  Not  long  since  the  Queen 
made  a  pilgrimage  to  one  of  the  shrines  of  the  Virgin 
which  are  so  numerous  in  Spain,  where  she  was  received 
with  the  honors  becoming  her  royal  state.  A  Duke,  who 
was  the  great  man  of  the  Province,  met  her  at  the  door  of 
the  church,  armed  with  an  address,  which  he  proceeded 
to  deliver  in  the  most  sonorous  Castilian,  when  the  King, 
who  did  not  always  observe  the  laws  of  propriety,  set  up  a 
cry  which  quite  drowned  the  voice  of  the  orator,  to  the 
confusion  of  his  royal  mother,  who  possibly  at  that  mo- 
ment wished  her  enfant  terrible  in  his  nurse's  arms,  out  of 
sight  and  hearing.  However,  the  Duke  was  equal  to  the 


98  COURT  CEREMONY. 

occasion,  and  extricated  her  from  embarrassment  in  the 
most  gallant  way,  saying,  like  the  true  courtier  that  he  wac, 
"When  the  King  speaks,  his  subjects  must  keep  silence," 
at  which  happy  sally  the  Queen  laughed,  and  all  was  smooth 
again. 

But  while  such  contretemps  must  occur  now  and  then, 
still  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the  little  Alfonso  is  an  ele- 
ment in  the  State  which  strengthens  the  monarchy.  When 
the  Queen  presents  herself  with  the  King  in  her  arms, 
the  sight  appeals  to  the  Spanish  people,  as  the  sight  of 
Maria  Theresa,  holding  up  her  boy  in  her  arms,  appealed 
to  the  loyalty  of  the  magnates  of  Hungary.  Even  Castelar, 
Republican  as  he  is,  feels  the  universal  impulse,  which  he 
expresses  in  his  hearty  and  generous  way  in  saying  : 
"I  cannot  fight  against  a  woman,  nor  against  a  child  in 
its  cradle." 

So  strict  are  the  traditions  of  royalty  in  Spain  that  the 
King,  though  but  a  baby-in-arms,  must  be  treated  with 
the  ceremony  that  befits  a  sovereign.  The  national  pride 
would  be  offended  if  a  single  detail  of  royal  etiquette  were 
omitted,  and  the  little  Alfonso  is  approached  with  almost  as 
much  deference  as  would  be  accorded  to  the  Emperor  of 
Germany.  As  a  King,  he  has  to  be  maintained  in  regal 
state.  The  Cortes  voted  him  one  million  four  hundred 
thousand  dollars  a  year — rather  a  liberal  allowance  for  his 
nourriture  ;  but  this  includes  of  course  the  maintenance  of 
the  Palace  and  all  the  expenses  of  the  royal  household,  in 
which  there  is  an  army  of  officials  large  enough  to  dispose 
of  the  most  princely  revenue. 

Of  course  the  Queen  Regent,  as  the  principal  figure  in 
every  Court  ceremonial,  has  to  go  through  with  a  great 
deal  of  posing  in  public,  giving  audiences,  and  receiving 
the  representatives  of  foreign  governments,  who,  if  they 
do  not  always  come  in  such  magnificence  as  the  French 


SIMPLICITY  OF  THE   QUEEN.  99 

Ambassador  with  his  gilded  coaches,  must  at  least  be  re- 
ceived with  a  degree  of  state  that  shall  give  them  a  proper 
sense  of  the  greatness  of  Spain.  All  this  must  be  very 
irksome  to  her  simple  German  tastes,  and  she  must  long 
to  escape  from  the  burdens  of  a  Palace  to  the  freedom  of 
a  more  quiet  life,  her  fondness  for  which  she  shows  in 
many  ways. 

The  first  time  that  I  saw  the  Queen,  she  was  walking  in 
the  street.  Mrs.  Curry  had  taken  me  in  her  carriage  to 
the  Prado,  the  fashionable  drive  of  Madrid,  which  was 
crowded  with  handsome  equipages,  in  which  were  the 
principal  personages  of  the  gay  capital,  when  suddenly 
her  attention  was  attracted  by  the  appearance  of  a  lady  on 
the  sidewalk,  very  plainly  dressed,  who,  to  judge  from  any- 
thing in  her  appearance,  might  have  been  a  governess. 
She  had  no  attendant  but  an  old  Dowager  Duchess,  with 
whom  she  was  walking  very  slowly  to  enjoy  the  brief  sun- 
shine of  the  short  Winter  afternoon.  It  was  the  Queen  of 
Spain ! 

After  this  I  saw  her  but  once,  and,  as  it  happened,  on 
the  very  day  that  she  had  given  that  first  audience  to  the 
French  Ambassador,  when  the  Court  ceremony  was  revived 
in  all  the  splendor  of  the  time  of  Charles  V.  or  Philip  II. 
It  was  the  hour  that  Mr.  Curry  had  appointed  to  take  me 
to  call  upon  Senor  Moret,  the  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs, 
whose  office  is  in  a  wing  of  the  Palace.  As  we  came  out, 
we  had  stopped  for  a  moment  in  an  archway  waiting  for 
our  carnage,  when  a  modest  coupe  passed  us,  and  a  lady 
leaning  forward  made  a  very  low  bow.  It  was  the  Queen, 
who  was  so  smiling  and  gracious  that,  although  her  bow 
was  intended  for  Mr.  Curry,  I  could  not  help  taking  a  part 
of  it  to  myself.  No  contrast  could  be  more  striking  than 
that  of  her  plain  carriage  with  the  gorgeous  coaches  drawn 
by  six  horses  apiece,  all  spangled  with  gold,  that  had  just 


100  THE  CLEAR  SHINING  AFTER  RAIN. 

rumbled  away  from  the  gates  of  the  Palace.  She  seemed 
like  a  person  who  had  got  through  with  a  pompous  and 
burdensome  ceremony,  and  was  but  too  glad  to  throw  off 
her  royal  robes,  and  regain  her  freedom  by  a  return  to  her 
natural  simplicity. 

Such  is  the  Queen  of  Spain,  simple  and  gentle,  kind  in 
heart  and  gracious  in  manner,  and  tranquilly  yet  pro- 
foundly happy.  That  which  gave  her  the  supreme  joy 
was  not  that  a  Prince  was  born,  but  a  child — a  second 
Alfonso,  as  a  perpetual  reminder  of  the  first.  The  appear- 
ance of  that  little  being  changed  life  for  her.  From  that 
hour  she  was  a  different  woman  :  no  longer  lonely,  sitting 
at  the  Palace  windows,  looking  out  on  the  dreary  land- 
scape, across  the  barren  plain  to  the  bleak  Guadarrama 
Mountains,  and  thinking  of  the  blue  Danube.  At  once 
the  great  halls  of  the  Palace,  that  were  so  empty  before, 
were  filled  with  a  new  presence.  The  frigid  atmosphere 
of  the  Spanish  Court  became  soft  and  warm  with  an  in- 
fant's breath.  Something  was  singing  in  her  heart  all  day 
long.  It  is  very  sweet  to  think  of  this  deep  joy  that  has 
come  at  last  to  one  who  has  been  so  sorely  stricken.  In  the 
hour  of  her  bitterest  grief  God  has  given  her  an  unspeak- 
able consolation,  to  which  she  clings  with  all  the  love  that 
is  in  a  woman's  heart.  In  the  photographs  of  her  seen  in 
Madrid,  she  appears  almost  always  with  the  little  Alfonso 
in  her  arms,  as  if  he  were  all  that  was  left  to  her  out  of 
the  wreck  of  her  happiness.  So  the  cloud  is  slowly  lifting, 
and  all  who  look  upon  that  widowed  Queen  in  those  mourn- 
ing robes  which  she  still  wears,  and  will  perhaps  always 
wear,  will  rejoice  to  see  coming  into  that  sad  face,  and  into 
those  eyes  that  have  shed  such  bitter  tears,  a  new  and  soft- 
ened light,  like  the  clear  shining  after  rain. 


CHAPTEK  Vin. 

THE  CORTES— DEBATE  ON  THE  LATE  INSURRECTION. 

Ever  since  I  crossed  the  frontier,  I  have  observed  with 
wonder  and  surprise  that  I  was  in  a  country  as  free  as  my 
own.  With  the  history  of  Spain  in  mind,  as  having  one  of 
the  most  despotic  of  governments,  I  was  prepared  to  con- 
duct myself  with  all  due  prudence  and  discretion,  as  I 
should  do  in  Russia.  If  I  had  been  in  St.  Petersburg,  and 
gone  into  a  cafe  to  get  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  a  stranger  had 
come  and  sat  down  at  the  same  table  and  commenced  a 
conversation,  I  should  instantly  have  suspected  him  to  be 
a  spy,  and  although  I  might  have  replied  to  his  inquiries 
so  far  as  to  give  an  opinion  about  the  weather,  and  whether 
there  was  likely  to  be  a  storm  on  the  Baltic,  yet  as  to  the 
Czar  or  the  government,  I  should  have  been  as  silent  as  if 
I  did  not  know  that  they  were  in  existence.  And  even  in 
Berlin,  as  one  sits  under  the  trees  in  the  Unter  den  Linden, 
he  needs  to  be  careful  in  his  words  if  he  has  aught  to  say 
of  the  Emperor,  or  even  of  Prince  Bismarck.  But  here 
all  this  is  conspicuous  by  its  absence  ;  I  am  not  "  shad- 
owed "  by  a  detective  in  my  goings  out  and  comings  in, 
but  go  where  I  will,  and  talk  as  I  please.  Of  course  it  is 
more  considerate  for  a  traveller  to  reserve  his  opinions  of 


102  THE  LATE  INSURRECTION. 

a  country  until  he  has  seen  something  of  it,  but  that  is 
merely  a  matter  of  taste  or  of  common  sense  ;  as  to  liberty, 
he  is  as  perfectly  master  of  himself  as  if  he  were  in  Amer- 
ica. And  this  in  a  country  where  twenty  years  ago  Sagas- 
ta  and  Martos  and  Castelar,  if  the  Government  could  have 
laid  hands  on  them,  would  have  been  shot !  Truly,  the 
world  does  move,  even  in  Spain. 

How  far  it  has  moved  within  these  years,  may  be 
judged  by  what  has  recently  transpired  in  the  Cortes, 
of  which  I  speak  from  personal  observation,  as  I  have 
watched  the  proceedings  from  day  to  day.  The  Cortes 
had  been  called  to  meet  two  weeks  before  I  reached 
Madrid,  and  came  together  in  a  state  of  unusual  ex- 
citement from  recent  events.  It  was  hardly  a  year  since 
the  King's  death,  during  which  the  country  had  been 
under  the  government  of  the  Queen  Regent,  whose  gentle 
person  seemed  to  unite  all  parties,  and  the  year  of  mourn- 
ing passed  in  quietness  and  peace  until  near  its  close, 
when  on  the  19th  of  September  there  was  an  emeute  in  one 
or  two  of  the  barracks  of  Madrid.  It  was  not  a  great 
affair,  including  but  a  few  hundred  men.  But  that  was  no 
fault  of  those  engaged  in  it,  who  conspired  to  effect  a 
general  rising  that  should  culminate  in  a  revolution.  Mr. 
Houghton,  the  correspondent  of  the  London  Standard, 
tells  me  what  was  told  him  by  an  officer  in  one  of  the 
barracks.  At  night  he  heard  in  the  street  the  voices  of 
soldiers  calling  to  some  of  their  comrades  within  by  name, 
"  to  get  up  and  come  out."  Surprised  at  this,  he  went  to 
the  cot  of  one  of  those  so  addressed,  and  asked  what  it 
meant.  The  man  mumbled  an  incoherent  answer,  feigning 
sleep  ;  but  when  the  officer  pulled  off  the  coverlid,  he 
found  that  the  man  was  dressed  !  Turning  to  another,  he 
found  him  in  the  same  condition,  at  which  he  took  alarm, 
and  immediately  summoned  the  guard,  whom  he  posted 


THE  LEADERS  CONDEMNED  TO  DEATH.     103 

at  the  entrance  of  the  corridor  with  loaded  rifles,  and  then 
calling  aloud  that  any  man  who  stirred  should  be  instantly 
shot,  he  went  from  cot  to  cot,  and  found  that  almost  all 
were  dressed,  ready  to  spring  up  in  an  instant  and  seize 
their  guns  and  join  in  the  revolt.  Those  who  had  already 
gone  into  the  streets  were  very  turbulent,  and  three  well 
known  officers  who  tried  to  check  them — General  Velarde, 
Count  Mirasol,  and  Captain  Peralta — were  shot  down  in 
cold  blood.  Hence  it  is  quite  probable  that  but  for  some 
unexpected  delay  or  oversight  leading  to  a  want  of  com- 
bination at  the  proper  moment,  the  rising  might  have 
become  general,  and  ended  in  a  revolution.  As  it  was,  it 
was  put  down  in  a  few  hours.  But  in  this  at  least  it  suc- 
ceeded, that  the  Government  was  terribly  frightened.  As 
soon  as  it  recovered  its  composure,  the  chiefs  of  the  insur- 
gents were  tried  by  court-martial.  The  leader  was  a 
General  in  the  army,  Villacampa,  who  was  well  known  as 
a  brave  and  daring  officer,  but  also  as  a  born  conspirator 
and  revolutionist.  As  the  offence  was  not  a  mere  matter 
of  political  opinion,  but  a  clear  case  of  mutiny  and  insur- 
rection, which  strikes  at  the  very  life  of  an  army  by  striking 
at  its  discipline,  they  could  not  but  be  condemned,  and 
accordingly  some  half-dozen  officers  were  sentenced  to  be 
shot.  The  day  of  execution  approached ;  it  was  within 
twenty-four  hours  of  the  fatal  moment,  and  they  had  even 
been  conducted  to  the  chapel,  according  to  the  Spanish 
custom,  to  be  prepared  for  death,  when  the  last  act  was 
stopped  by  the  hand,  or  rather  by  the  heart,  of  a  woman, 
whom  love  and  agony  made  eloquent  to  save  one  of  the 
condemned.  It  was  the  daughter  of  Villacampa,  who, 
frenzied  at  the  thought  of  the  fate  which  awaited  her 
father,  flew  from  Deputy  to  Deputy,  to  get  them  to  beg 
for  his  pardon  ;  and  from  Minister  to  Minister,  to  throw 
herself  at  their  feet  to  plead  for  the  life  so  precious 


104  THE  SENTENCES  COMMUTED. 

to  her.  Before  such  entreaties  they  could  not  but  be 
greatly  moved.  Villacampa  was  an  old  friend  of  Sagasta, 
the  Prime  Minister.  But  what  could  he  do  in  a  case  so 
clear  ?  At  length  the  question  was  submitted  to  the  Cabi- 
net, of  which  there  are  nine  members.  Four  voted  inflex- 
ibly that  the  law  should  take  its  course,  and  the  sentence 
of  the  court-martial  be  carried  out ;  while  four  thought  that 
the  Queen  Regent  might  exercise  her  prerogative  of  mercy 
without  danger  of  encouraging  further  rebellion.  Sagasta 
gave  the  casting  vote  in  favor  of  pardon,  and  thus  saved 
the  life  of  his  friend,  who  with  his  companions  was  imme- 
diately shipped  off  to  Fernando  Po,  a  Spanish  island  on 
the  coast  of  Africa. 

Of  course  all  these  things  were  the  topics  of  universal 
discussion  in  the  capital.  For  weeks  nothing  else  was 
talked  of,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  excitement  the  Cortes 
was  summoned  to  meet.  For  the  enemies  of  the  govern- 
ment, here  was  an  opportunity  not  to  be  lost.  What  an 
occasion  to  charge  it  with  want  of  foresight,  that  could 
allow  such  a  conspiracy  to  come  to  a  head  ;  or  with  weak- 
ness and  vacillation  in  passing  sentence  on  men  justly 
condemned,  and  then  staying  the  hand  of  justice.  No 
sooner  were  the  Ministers  brought  face  to  face  with  the 
Cortes,  than  it  was  evident  that  there  was  to  be  a  combin- 
ed attack,  and  that  they  must  expect  a  heavy  assault  all 
along  the  line.  It  began  in  a  general  discussion  of  the 
policy  of  the  government.  The  aim  of  the  opposition  was 
to  carry  what  in  the  English  Parliament  would  be  called 
"a  vote  of  want  of  confidence."  The  debate  had  been 
going  on  for  two  weeks,  and  was  at  its  hottest  when  I  was 
first  present  at  a  sitting  of  the  Cortes.  Mr.  Stroebel  came 
for  us  and  took  us  to  the  Parliament  House  in  which  the 
"  Congreso  "  meets  (the  "  Senado  "  meets  elsewhere,  near 
the  British  Embassy) — a  large  and  handsome  building, 


APPEARANCE  OF  THE  CORTES.  105 

fronting  on  a  public  square,  in  which  there  is  a  statue  of 
Cervantes.  Passing  in  by  a  side  entrance,  we  went  up  to 
the  Diplomatic  box,  from  which  we  looked  down  on  tho 
whole  assembly.  It  is  composed  of  about  four  hundred 
members,  the  greater  part  of  whom,  to  judge  from  their 
appearance,  I  should  take  to  be  men  of  position  and  edu- 
cation. Some  bear  names  well  known  in  the  old  Spanish 
nobility,  but  for  the  most  part,  they  belong  to  what  in 
France  would  be  called  the  haute  bourgeoisie — the  upper 
middle  class.  They  have  the  air  of  being  well-to-do,  as 
indeed  they  must  be  to  hold  their  places  here  at  all :  for 
in  the  Spanish  Cortes,  as  in  the  English  House  of  Com- 
mons, the  members  receive  no  pay,  the  honor  itself  being 
considered  a  sufficient  reward  ;  and  indeed  it  is  so  highly 
prized  that  men  are  not  only  willing  to  take  it  without 
compensation,  but  to  pay  roundly,  if  not  in  money,  yet  in 
time  and  labor,  for  the  distinction  of  belonging  to  the 
body  which  makes  laws  for  Spain.  Although  for  the  most 
part  men  in  middle  life,  yet  they  have  the  venerable  look 
of  a  more  advanced  age,  from  the  fact  that  so  large  a 
number  of  them  are  quite  bald,  having  more  hair  on  their 
faces  and  chins  than  on  their  heads.  Indeed  I  never  saw 
the  light  reflected  from  so  many  polished  pates. 

In  the  grouping  of  the  members,  one  does  not  perceive 
any  great  difference  between  this  and  a  legislative  body 
in  America.  The  seats  are  ranged  in  a  semi-circle,  as  in 
our  Senate  Chamber  in  Washington,  the  desk  of  the  Pres- 
ident being  in  the  centre,  or  focus,  where  his  eye  is  on 
every  one,  and  his  ear  can  be  reached  by  any  voice.  A 
stranger  would  hardly  know  that  Spain  is  not  still  a  Re- 
public but  for  the  emblem  of  a  crown  woven  in  the 
carpet — a  crown  resting  on  two  globes,  in  token  that  the 
Spanish  rule  extends  to  both  hemispheres.  The  only  bit 
of  brilliant  color  in  the  whole  chamber  is  in  the  mace- 


106  A  LIBERAL  MINISTRY. 

bearers,  two  gorgeous  creatures  in  red  velvet,  covered 
with  gold,  with  red  velvet  caps  surmounted  by  tall  white 
feathers,  who  stand  behind  the  President's  chair  leaning 
against  the  curtain  of  the  recess,  silent  emblems  of  power 
and  glory! 

Looking  down  on  the  body  below  us,  it  was  apparent 
that  it  was  in  a  state  of  unusual  excitement.  Members 
came  rushing  in  to  take  their  seats,  while  ex-members  and 
Senators,  who  have  the  privilege  of  the  floor,  were  standing 
wherever  one  could  set  his  foot,  near  the  entrances  and 
round  the  desk  of  the  President. 

The  bench  of  Ministers  was  full.  Of  the  nine  members  of 
the  Cabinet,  every  man  was  in  his  place.  At  the  head  sat 
the  Prime  Minister,  Sagasta,  a  man  whose  bodily  presence 
gives  little  indication  of  the  power  which  he  is  said  to 
possess.  There  is  nothing  in  his  appearance  that  would 
arrest  attention.  In  this  respect  he  is  in  striking  contrast 
with  his  colleague,  Senor  Moret,  the  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs,  who  sits  beside  him,  who  is  one  of  the  handsomest 
men  in  Spain — tall,  erect,  with  fine,  open  countenance, 
and  winning  style  of  address.  He  is  a  favorite  not  only 
in  diplomatic  circles,  but  in  general  society,  as  he  well  may 
be,  for  he  is  extremely  courteous — a  man  to  make  many 
friends  and  no  enemies.  Near  him  is  Leon  y  Castillo, 
Minister  of  the  Interior,  who  has  also  a  commanding 
presence,  and  is  noted,  among  other  things,  for  his  sten- 
torian voice. 

This  Cabinet,  though  holding  power  under  a  monarchy, 
is  Liberal.  The  previous  one,  under  the  late  King,  was 
Conservative,  although  the  Prime  Minister,  Canovas,  was  a 
man  of  large  political  wisdom.  A  gentleman  who  has 
lived  long  in  Madrid  said  to  me  :  "  He  is  our  only  states- 
man." Perhaps  he  never  showed  his  sagacity  so  much  as 
by  resigning  power.  When  the  King  died,  he  felt  that 


DEBATE  ON  THE  INSURRECTION.  107 

there  was  great  danger  of  a  political  upheaval  ending  in  a 
revolution,  and  that  it  was  all-important  to  rally  to  the 
Government  the  support  of  the  Liberal  party  ;  and  to  that 
end  he  offered  his  own  resignation,  and  advised  the  Queen 
to  send  for  Sagasta,  and  give  him  authority  to  form  a  Lib- 
eral Ministry. 

In  this  Cabinet  of  nine  members  there  is  not  a  man  with 
a  title.  Every  one  has  risen  from  the  ranks — raising  him- 
self to  his  present  position  by  his  personal  ability.  Sagasta 
was  an  engineer,  while  Canovas  was  a  schoolmaster !  This 
is  the  stuff  of  which  to  make  good  citizens  and  good  legis- 
lators. Could  any  fact  show  more  clearly  how  the  demo- 
cratic spirit  is  creeping  into  the  institutions  of  old  Spain ! 

As  we  entered,  the  Minister  of  Finance  was  defending 
the  policy  of  the  government  in  regard  to  the  late  insur- 
rection, and  particularly  in  granting  the  "indulto,"  or 
pardon  of  the  officers  engaged  in  it.  He  showed  that  the 
military  insurrection  was  of  but  little  significance,  occur- 
ring as  it  did  a  year  after  the  King's  death  ;  whereas  if  it 
had  taken  place  at  that  moment,  when  everybody  was  pre- 
dicting a  great  catastrophe,  it  might  have  thrown  the  whole 
kingdom  into  confusion.  Now,  thanks  to  the  wisdom  and 
prudence  of  Senor  Sagasta,  he  had  gathered  round  him 
the  best  elements  from  all  the  political  parties — from  the 
Conservatives  on  the  one  hand,  and  from  the  Posibilistas 
(Castelar's  following)  on  the  other — which  showed  the 
public  confidence  in  the  strength  of  the  Government,  and 
in  its  fidelity  to  its  liberal  professions,  and  fully  justified 
its  continuance  in  power. 

But  now  rose  up  a  man  of  military  bearing,  General 
Lopez  Dominguez,  a  nephew  of  the  late  Marshal  Serrano, 
who  was  formerly  a  supporter  of  Sagasta,  but  who,  in 
the  splitting  up  of  parties  into  new  divisions,  now  fig- 
ures as  the  leader  of  the  Dynastic  Left — that  is,  he  is  a 


108  SPEECH  OF  LOPEZ  DOMINGUEZ. 

Monarchist,  while  he  dissents  from  the  policy  recently 
pursued.  He  was  himself  at  one  time  Minister  of  War, 
and  had  proposed  certain  reforms  in  the  army,  which 
he  thought  of  the  greatest  importance.  He  reminded  the 
Government  that  he  had  warned  them  of  the  dangers  to 
which  they  were  exposed  if  these  reforms  were  not  carried 
out.  But  they  had  paid  no  heed  to  his  remonstrance.  To 
the  neglect  of  those  warnings ;  to  the  failure  to  carry  out 
those  reforms  ;  he  ascribed  the  late  insurrection,  for  which 
he  now  proposed  to  call  the  Government  to  a  strict  ac- 
count. He  said  that,  "  returning  to  Madrid  shortly  after 
that  deplorable  event,  he  did  not  find  a  single  journal  nor 
a  single  man  in  the  cafes,  in  public  gatherings,  or  in  social 
circles,  that  did  not  think  that  it  left  the  Ministry  of  Senor 
Sagasta  in  complete  isolation,  and  that  it  was  virtually 
dead!" 

Here  he  was  interrupted,  and  challenged  to  say  who 
were  the  men  with  whom  he  had  had  interviews.  He  ad- 
mitted that  some  of  them  were  men  who  had  been  opposed 
to  the  Government,  although  others  had  been  its  support- 
ers ;  but  he  denied  that  the  conferences  had  been  for  the 
purpose  of  forming  a  new  political  party  that  should  come 
into  power.  "I  mention  this,"  he  said,  "because  I  have 
been  charged  with  being  impatient  and  ambitious.  The 
only  impatience,  the  only  ambition,  that  I  feel,  is  to  see 
grouped  around  the  monarchy  all  the  great  forces  of  the 
country  marching  onward  in  the  paths  of  liberty  " — a  sen- 
timent that  was  received  with  much  applause. 

Then  turning  to  the  .Republicans  at  his  side,  he  charged 
them  with  giving  encouragement  and  aid  to  the  Socialists, 
"  teaching  as  they  did  the  right  of  insurrection  "  !  "  It  is 
necessary,"  he  said,  "  that  you  should  be  disarmed  ;  that 
the  revolution  should  be  disarmed.  You  may  discuss 
everything  ;  you  may  display  your  programme  ;  but  you 


THE  DEBATE  AT  ITS  HEIGHT.  109 

have  no  right  to  break  the  laws,  nor  to  be  wanting  in 
dutiful  respect  to  the  august  lady  who  occupies  the  throne." 
(Cries  of  "  Very  good !  Very  good !  ") 

In  this  strain  the  General  spoke  for  an  hour  and  a  half, 
ending  his  vehement  philippic  by  saying  :  "  It  only  remains 
for  me  to  add  that  everywhere  and  at  all  times  my  cry 
shall  be  '  Long  live  the  country !  [Viva  la  patria !]  Long 
live  the  monarchy !  Long  live  discipline  in  the  army ! ' 
and  that  my  only  wish  for  the  country  is  peace  and  loyalty 
at  home,  and  strength,  vigor,  and  freedom  abroad !  "  With 
this  he  took  his  seat  amid  loud  cheers  from  all  sides  of  the 
chamber. 

After  this  torrent  of  Spanish  eloquence,  it  was  a  con- 
trast to  hear  the  Marquis  de  la  Vega  de  Armijo — who, 
though  not  an  orator,  is  a  man  of  influence  in  Spanish 
politics — say,  in  a  voice  free  from  all  excitement,  yet  clear 
and  decided,  that  "  while  he  belonged  to  the  Liberal  party, 
the  Government  party,  he  did  not  hold  that  a  political 
party  was  a  '  narrow  religion '  [religion  estrecha]  ;  and, 
without  being  a  revolter  or  a  dissenter  from  his  party,  he 
was  free  to  say  that  he  did  not  approve  some  of  the  late 
acts  of  the  Government." 

The  debate,  which  had  been  in  progress  for  three  or 
four  hours,  was  now  at  its  height.  The  Cortes  was  in  a 
state  of  excitement.  Castelar  rose  from  his  seat  and  moved 
round  to  the  chair  of  the  President,  and  for  the  moment 
we  thought  he  was  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  speak. 
But  after  a  few  minutes  he  returned  to  his  place,  leaving 
the  debate  to  be  ended  by  him  to  whom  it  rightly  be- 
longed, the  Prime  Minister,  Sagasta. 

All  the  evening  I  had  been  watching  the  face  of  this 
man,  who  holds  in  his  hands  at  this  moment  the  govern- 
ment of  Spain.  He  has  a  Jewish  cast  of  countenance,  and 
perhaps  has  Jewish  blood  in  his  veins,  as  there  is  Jewish 


110  SPEECH  OF  SAGASTA. 

blood  everywhere  in  Spain.  He  is  not  tall,  but  lank,  and, 
if  it  were  not  an  uncourtly  word  to  apply  to  a  prime  min- 
ister, we  might  almost  say  "  raw-boned/'  His  figure  is  so 
awkward  and  angular  that  he  made  me  think  of  Abraham 
Lincoln,  and  he  has  a  truly  Lincolnian  way  of  sprawling 
over  the  desk  in  front  of  him.  He  had  a  heavy,  wearied 
look.  Perhaps  he  was  very,  very  tired,  as  he  well  might 
be.  But  when  he  rose  to  his  feet,  every  trace  of  fatigue 
had  vanished.  Looking  straight  across  the  chamber,  he 
met  the  enemy  face  to  face.  Straightening  himself  up,  as 
Lincoln  might  have  done,  he  stood  with  folded  arms,  look- 
ing at  his  assailants  with  an  air  of  disdain.  The  lion  was 
at  bay.  After  pausing  for  a  few  moments,  he  unloosed 
his  arms,  and  soon  began  to  strike  as  the  smith  strikes  the 
anvil,  bringing  his  hands  down  with  violence  on  the  desk 
before  him,  as  if  to  clench  his  argument.  He  made  no 
weak  apology  for  failures,  but  defended  the  action  of  the 
government  as  the  only  wise,  and  indeed  the  only  possible, 
course  for  it  to  pursue.  To  show  this,  he  drew  a  picture 
of  the  difficulties  through  which  it  had  lately  passed.  One 
year  ago  the  King  had  died,  leaving  the  nation  without  a 
head.  For  months  they  knew  not  who  was  to  be  his  suc- 
cessor, for  the  child  that  was  to  be  heir  to  the  throne,  was 
not  yet  born.  What  a  state  of  uncertainty  and  perplexity 
to  tempt  malcontents,  in  the  State  and  the  army,  to  seek 
some  party  or  personal  advantage  from  the  calamities  of 
their  country !  And  yet,  in  spite  of  all  this,  the  govern- 
ment had  held  on  its  way,  maintaining  peace  at  home  and 
abroad — putting  down  insurrection  when  it  showed  its 
head,  and  was  strong  enough  to  pardon  the  miserable 
conspirators  without  danger  to  the  State.  He  closed  by  a 
picture  of  the  widowed  Queen,  drawing  to  her  all  hearts  by 
the  dignity  with  which  she  bore  her  great  sorrow,  and  carry- 
ing in  her  arms  the  young  life  that  was  the  hope  of  Spain, 


THE   REPUBLICANS.  Ill 

This  last  allusion  of  course  touched  the  Spanish  heart 
in  its  tenclersst  point,  and  the  house  broke  out  into  tumul- 
tuous applause,  in  which  the  Prime  Minister  resumed  his 
seat.  Immediately  the  Chamber  rose,  for  anything  would 
have  seemed  tame  after  such  a  display.  An  hour  later,  at 
a  dinner  at  the  American  Legation,  I  met  Leon  y  Castillo, 
to  whom  I  spoke  of  what  I  had  just  heard  from  Sagasta. 
He  replied  "  It  was  the  greatest  speech  of  his  life  ;  he 
was  inspired  !  "  Of  course  I  felt  it  to  be  a  piece  of  extraor- 
dinary good  fortune  to  be  present  on  such  a  memorable 
occasion,  and  to  have  seen  the  Prime  Minister  of  Spain  at 
the  moment  of  his  highest  power. 

This  was  my  first  visit  to  the  Cortes,  but  not  the  last. 
I  had  heard  one  side,  and  now  wished  to  hear  the  other. 
At  the  first  sitting,  those  who  spoke  were  Monarchists  of 
one  type  or  another.  Even  Lopez  Dominguez,  in  his  fierce 
assault  on  the  Ministry,  was  at  special  pains  to  declare  his 
allegiance  to  the  throne,  and,  like  all  the  rest,  threw  upon 
the  Republicans  the  odium  of  being  the  instigators  of  the 
late  insurrection.  But  the  Monarchists  were  not  to  have 
it  all  their  own  way  :  there  was  another  side  to  be  heard. 
Bight  under  the  Diplomatic  box  sat  the  Left,  or  Republi- 
can wing  of  the  Chamber,  which,  if  not  in  the  majority, 
still  constituted  a  minority  that  would  be  very  formidable 
if  it  were  a  compact  body,  and  not  split  into  half  a  dozen 
factions,  but  which  even  now,  divided  as  it  is,  is  a  political 
force,  strong  in  its  energy  and  boldness,  since  it  does  not 
disguise  its  opinions  on  any  floor  or  in  any  presence.  If 
it  kept  silent  the  last  evening,  it  was  only  biding  its  time  : 
to-night  it  comes  to  the  front,  and  will  declare  itself  with- 
out any  reserve. 

Among  its  leaders  is  Salmeron,  who,  during  the  period 
of  the  Republic,  was  for  a  brief  time  its  President.  The 
Republic  is  gone,  but  his  faith  is  not  gone  :  he  is  still  and 


112  SPEECH  OF  SALMERON. 

forever  for  "  The  Republic,  one  and  indivisible  ! "  He 
spoke,  not  in  the  -way  of  apology,  but  of  manly  vindication. 
In  his  style  of  address,  as  in  his  personal  appearance,  he  is 
the  very  opposite  of  Castelar.  Tall  and  somewhat  stately 
in  figure,  he  speaks  in  measured  sentences,  waving  his 
long  arms  in  a  way  which  appeared  to  me  very  studied, 
not  to  say  affected.  Indeed,  as  he  was  formerly  a  Pro- 
fessor in  the  University,  I  thought  he  spoke  more  like  a 
Professor,  or  a  teacher  of  elocution,  than  like  a  tribune 
of  the  people.  His  slightly  pompous  manner  led  me 
to  look  upon  him  as  a  graceful  and  ornamental,  rather 
than  powerful,  orator.  And  yet  he  is  not  by  any  means  a 
man  of  mere  words,  but  of  action.  Indeed  it  is  said  that 
during  the  last  Summer  he  made  a  political  tour  in  Cata- 
lonia, in  which  he  openly  advocated  armed  rebellion — a 
fact  which  must  make  it  somewhat  difficult  for  him  to  free 
himself  from  all  complicity  with  the  late  insurrection.  And 
yet  he  seemed  not  in  the  slightest  degree  embarrassed, 
but  rolled  out  his  sounding  periods  as  calmly  as  if  he  were 
delivering  a  lecture  to  the  students  in  the  University. 

Beside  him  sat  a  deputy  from  Leon,  Senor  Alcarate,  of 
the  same  Republican  faith,  but  of  more  fiery  temper,  who 
spoke  with  great  vehemence,  pouring  his  hot  words  into 
the  very  faces  of  the  Monarchists  and  Ministerialists,  who 
sat  on  the  opposite  benches — a  passionate  outburst  which 
seemed  to  exhaust  him,  so  that  at  the  close  he  almost  fell 
into  the  arms  of  Salmeron,  who  hugged  him  with  affec- 
tionate admiration. 

These  were  bold  words,  indeed,  to  be  spoken  in  such 
a  place.  Leaning  over  the  box,  and  listening  with  close 
attention,  I  could  hardly  believe  my  ears  as  I  heard  this 
proud  defiance  of  any  sort  of  tyranny,  and  this  demand 
for  the  widest  liberty.  And  this  was  not  in  the  American 
Congress,  but  in  the  Cortes  of  haughty  old  Spain ! 


SPANISH  ELOQUENCE.  113 

In  these  visits  to  the  Cortes,  which  were  repeated 
many  times,  I  was  very  much  surprised  at  the  Spanish 
eloquence.  In  the  first  debate  there  were  a  dozen,  per- 
haps twenty,  speakers,  but  not  a  man  used  notes  of  any 
kind  ;  and  yet  they  spoke  with  a  readiness  and  fluency  in 
striking  contrast  to  the  halting  and  hemming  and  hawing 
in  the  English  House  of  Commons.  They  have  the  ani- 
mated gesticulation  of  the  Southern  races,  and  at  the  same 
time  their  words  flow  with  an  ease  and  grace  for  which  I 
was  wholly  unprepared,  and  by  which  I  was  as  much  de- 
lighted as  surprised. 

But  there  was  something  still  better  than  this  :  the 
Spaniards  are  not  only  good  speakers,  but,  what  is  still 
more  rare,  they  are  good  listeners,  hearing  their  politi- 
cal opponents,  not  only  with  forbearance,  but  with  atten- 
tion and  respect — a  respect  which  might  well  be  imitated 
by  their  neighbors  on  the  other  side  of  the  Pyrenees.  If 
a  debate  on  a  topic  so  exciting  as  a  military  insurrec- 
tion had  taken  place  in  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  in 
Paris,  it  would  have  been  interrupted  a  hundred  times 
by  angry  charges  hurled  from  one  side  to  the  other.  But 
the  Spaniards  are  a  much  graver  people  than  the  French  ; 
they  are  less  demonstrative.  Exciting  as  the  subject  was, 
the  Cortes  listened  for  the  most  part  in  silent  attention, 
only  now  and  then  breaking  out  into  applause.  Once  or 
twice  I  observed  a  slight  hiss,  but  this  seemed  to  be  di- 
rected not  at  the  speakers,  but  at  those  who  by  any  move- 
ment interrupted  them.  In  such  cases  a  touch  of  the  bell 
brought  them  promptly  to  order.  On  the  whole,  no  speak- 
ers could  wish  for  a  more  respectful  audience. 

Indeed  so  punctilious  are  these  Spaniards  in  their  forms 
of  politeness,  that  they  seem  to  have  a  pride  in  outdoing 
one  another  in  courtesy ;  and  sometimes  when  one  is  at- 
tacked with  some  degree  of  asperity,  he  will  reply  in  the 


114  THE  ORDER  OF  SPEAKING. 

blandest  manner,  taking  good  care  to  refer  to  his  assailant 
as  "  my  personal  friend,  although  my  political  opponent." 
Some  of  our  American  Congressmen  might  learn  the  fine 
art  of  courtesy  from  these  high-bred  Spaniards. 

Another  custom  I  was  glad  to  observe,  which  shows  the 
Spanish  simplicity  :  they  call  each  other  by  their  proper 
names.  Instead  of  the  absurd  way  in  the  English  Parlia- 
ment of  alluding  to  a  preceding  speaker  as  "the  noble 
lord "  or  "  the  right  honorable  and  gallant  member,"  it  is 
simply  Senor  Sagasta,  or  Senor  Canovas,  or  Senor  Castelar. 

The  excellent  order  is  preserved  by  a  rule  which  pre- 
vents the  constant  interruption  of  speakers  by  those  who 
wish  to  get  the  floor,  and  which  I  think  might  well  be 
adopted  both  in  the  American  Congress  and  in  the  British 
Parliament.  In  the  House  of  Representatives  at  Washing- 
ton, if  a  member  wishes  to  speak,  he  rises  in  his  place  and 
calls  "  Mr.  Speaker ! "  If  he  is  the  only  one,  he  has  the 
floor  ;  but  if  a  dozen  rise  at  the  same  instant,  it  depends 
on  whom  the  Speaker  sees,  or  wishes  to  see,  and  as  he  is 
sometimes  affected  with  blindness  when  looking  in  one 
direction,  while  very  sharp-sighted  when  looking  in  the 
other,  those  of  his  own  party  are  placed  at  a  great  advan- 
tage, by  which  serious  injustice  may  be  done,  and  a  fair 
debate  be  rendered  impossible.  So  in  the  House  of  Com- 
mons I  have  seen  ordinary  speakers  put  to  silence  by  the 
loud  and  repeated  calls  for  "Bright,"  when  (as  I  happened 
to  know  from  having  seen  him  a  few  hours  before)  he  did 
not  wish  to  speak,  but  would  have  much  preferred  to  re- 
main silent.  Here  is  a  case  in  which  we  may  plead  for  the 
rights  of  those  who  are  not  eloquent.  One  who  has  no 
gift  of  speech  may  yet  have  a  fact  to  state  or  an  opinion  to 
express  which  is  worth  being  heard,  and  he  ought  to  have 
a  chance,  and  not  to  be  choked  down. 

In  this  matter  we  might  take  a  lesson  from  the  Span- 


"ALLUSIONES"  AND  "  RECTIFICATIONS"      115 

iards.  If  a  member  of  the  Cortes  wishes  to  speak,  he  has 
not  to  fight  for  the  floor,  but  gives  his  name  to  the  Presi- 
dent, by  whom  it  is  called  in  its  proper  order,  so  that  he 
shall  have  the  same  opportunity  as  others.  Thus  no  mem- 
ber is  defrauded  of  his  rights,  and  perfect  justice  is  united 
with  perfect  courtesy. 

There  is,  however,  one  impediment,  if  not  to  the  smooth 
flow  of  debate,  yet  to  its  speedy  termination.  By  the  rules 
of  the  Cortes,  a  member  cannot  speak  more  than  once  on 
the  same  question ;  but  if  another  member  refers  to  him, 
stating  his  views  as  he  thinks  unfairly,  he  has  the  privilege 
of  reply  to  set  himself  right.  These  "allusiones"  and 
"  rectificationes  "  often  occupy  more  time  than  the  original 
debate,  which  is  thereby  indefinitely  prolonged.  Thus  the 
present  discussion  lasted  four  weeks  (from  the  18th  of 
November  to  the  16th  of  December),  which  gave  ample 
opportunity  for  all  parties  to  be  heard,  and  for  every  mem- 
ber of  importance  to  define  his  position.  The  debate  called 
out  nearly  a  hundred  speeches — to  be  exact,  there  were 
just  ninety-eight ! 

Some  will  say  that  this  was  all  wasted  time  and  useless 
talk.  I  do  not  think  so.  When  it  is  said  that  "  Spaniards 
talk  a  great  deal,"  I  say  "  Let  them  talk  ;  their  mouths 
have  been  shut  long  enough.  It  is  not  strange  if  they 
should  find  a  keen  pleasure  in  the  exercise  of  their  new 
rights."  The  very  fact  that  they  can  speak  so  freely  in  the 
face  of  the  Government,  is  the  healthful  sign  of  liberty. 
Such  prolonged  discussion  is  not  useless  :  it  does  great 
good.  First  of  all,  it  is  a  relief  to  the  speakers  them- 
selves :  they  have  freed  their  minds.  When  a  man  is 
bursting  with  political  excitement,  he  must  have  some 
vent  for  it,  or  he  will  explode.  It  is  better  that  they 
should  relieve  themselves  by  talking  than  by  fighting. 
This  month  of  debate  I  look  upon  as  the  natural  substi- 


116         POLITICAL  EDUCATION  OF  THE  COUNTRY. 

tute  for  a  revolution.  The  Spaniards  have  let  off  steam, 
and  are  satisfied.  The  discussion  has  denned  the  position 
of  individuals  and  of  parties.  It  has  cleared  up  the  situa- 
tion, and  strengthened  the  present  liberal  Government. 

And  better  still :  this  long  "  deliverance  "  is  a  political 
education  for  the  Cortes  and  for  the  country.  It  is  the 
sign  and  symbol  of  its  growing  freedom.  As  I  looked 
down  upon  that  assembly  of  four  hundred  men,  so  grave 
and  calm,  even  while  full  of  the  grand  excitement  of  lib- 
erty, I  thought,  "  What  would  Charles  V.  or  Philip  31.  say 
if  they  could  come  out  of  their  coffins,  and  see  a  Spanish 
Parliament  speaking  so  freely  ?  "  Thus  it  is  that  this  peo- 
ple are  taking  lessons  in  the  difficult  art  of  self-control, 
and  that  one  of  the  worst  despotisms  in  Europe  is  being 
transformed  into  a  liberal  and  constitutional  government. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

CASTELAR. 

In  coming  to  Spain,  the  man  of  all  men  whom  I  most 
desired  to  see  was  Don  Emilio  Castelar.  He  is  the  one 
Spaniard  whose  name  is  a  household  word  in  America. 
For  twenty  years  he  has  been  a  great  political  figure  in 
Spain,  where  he  has  been  from  the  beginning  the  apostle 
of  liberty.  Such  a  man  every  American  must  be  glad  to 
look  in  the  face,  and  to  take  by  the  hand. 

"When  I  was  in  Paris,  Castelar  was  there,  in  a  round  of 
festivities  given  by  the  political  chiefs  of  France,  who  were 
eager  to  do  honor  to  one  who  was  not  only  a  leader  in 
Spain,  but  one  of  the  Republican  leaders  of  Europe.  His 
visit  to  Paris  was  brought  to  a  close  by  the  meeting  of  the 
Cortes  in  Madrid.  His  friends  were  looking  for  him  at 
San  Sebastian  on  the  day  we  left,  though  he  did  not  come 
till  the  day  after  ;  but  when  we  got  aboard  of  the  train  at 
Burgos,  he  was  in  the  sleeping-car,  though  we  did  not 
know  it  till  the  next  morning,  when,  in  coming  into  the 
station  at  Madrid,  we  observed  a  crowd  collected  as  for  a 
political  demonstration,  the  object  of  which  appeared  as 
there  stepped  on  the  platform  a  short,  stout  man,  who  was 
welcomed  not  in  the  French  way,  by  a  general  kissing  on 


118  HIS  PERSONAL  APPEARANCE. 

botli  cheeks,  but  in  the  more  grave  Spanish  mode,  by  all 
in  turn  placing  the  right  arm  over  his  shoulder,  as  if  to 
fold  him  to  their  breasts. 

The  next  time  I  saw  him  was  in  the  Cortes,  sitting  in 
his  seat,  only  rising  now  and  then  to  move  about  the  cham- 
ber and  speak  to  his  brother  deputies.  The  first  look  at 
him  was  disappointing.  He  had  not  the  physique  of  a 
man  of  whom  we  would  make  a  hero.  According  to  our 
idea  of  what  should  be,  a  commanding  stature  is  the  fit 
embodiment  of  the  exalted  mind.  When  an  orator  stands 
erect,  he  should  show  a  majestic  figure,  like  that  of  Chat- 
ham or  Gladstone  or  Henry  Clay.  But  here  was  a  man 
rather  undersized,  thick-set,  broad-shouldered,  and  broad- 
chested,  with  neck  and  breast  like  a  bull.  This  was  not  a 
figure  in  which  a  man  could  pose,  or  strike  attitudes; 
but  it  is  a  physique  for  the  hard  work  of  a  public  speaker, 
who,  according  to  Cicero,  should  have  robust  sides  (bona 
latera).  Such  was  the  figure  of  Mirabeau,  as  it  was  in 
later  years  of  Gambetta. 

Observing  a  little  more  closely  (for,  as  I  was  in  the  dip- 
lomatic box,  which  was  almost  directly  over  Castelar's  seat, 
I  could  literally  look  down  upon  him),  I  took  the  propor- 
tions of  his  head,  which  is  of  very  uncommon  size,  and 
round,  as  if  equally  developed  in  every  part,  the  top  rising 
like  a  dome  over  the  massive  substructure.  Like  many 
of  the  Deputies  around  him,  he  is  almost  entirely  bald. 
He  must  have  received  the  tonsure  early,  as  only  a  fringe 
(what  the  French  would  call  a  soupgon — a  suspicion)  of 
hair  lingers  on  the  back  of  his  head.  Seeing  what  a  load 
the  body  had  to  carry,  it  seemed  well  that  it  should  rest 
firmly  on  the  shoulders  ;  that  there  might  be  the  closest 
possible  connection  between  the  vigorous  body  and  the 
capacious  brain. 

As  I  had  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Castelar  from  Mr. 


HTS  HOME  INT  MADRID.  119 

Foster,  our  late  Minister  to  Spain  (in  which  he  had  said 
some  kind  things  of  me,  as  his  manner  is),  I  sent  it  into 
the  Cortes  with  my  card,  and  presently  received  a  reply, 
written  in  that  sprawling  hand  which  is  familiar  to  all  who 
know  the  Spanish  orator,  saying  that  if  I  would  give  him 
my  address,  he  would  call  upon  me  ;  or  if  I  preferred  to 
come  and  see  him,  he  would  be  at  home  at  such  a  time  to 
receive  me.  As  I  did  not  care  for  the  mere  formality  of 
a  call  at  a  hotel,  where  we  might  be  interrupted,  I  returned 
answer  that  I  would  give  myself  the  pleasure  to  call  upon 
him,  where  I  hoped  (and  found)  that  I  could  have  him  all 
to  myself. 

He  lives  in  a  pleasant  part  of  the  city  (his  address  is 
Serrano,  No.  40).  As  he  is  not  married,  an  elder  sister 
presides  over  his  very  simple  domestic  establishment.  He 
has  a  suite  of  rooms,  handsomely  though  not  luxuriantly 
furnished.  The  walls  are  covered  with  pictures  or  with 
plaques — the  gifts,  I  presume,  for  the  aaost  part,  of  admir- 
ing friends  :  for  I  am  told  that  he  is  quite  without  fortune, 
a  fact  greatly  to  his  honor,  since  he  has  had  opportunities 
of  enriching  himself,  having  once  been  President  of  the 
Eepublic,  with  the  whole  power  of  the  government  in  his 
hands — a  temptation  which  not  all  Spanish  statesmen  would 
be  strong  enough  to  resist.  But  he  is  inexorably  honest. 
No  imputation  upon  his  integrity  has  ever  been  made  by 
his  bitterest  enemies.  For  years  he  lived  on  his  modest 
salary  as  a  Professor  in  the  University,  from  which,  I 
believe,  he  still  receives  a  pension.  He  gets  something 
also  from  his  writings,  and  perhaps  from  his  published 
speeches.  But  this  is  all,  as  members  of  the  Cortes  receive 
no  pay  ;  so  that  his  services  to  the  State  are  rendered  solely 
from  love  to  his  country. 

Presently  he  came  rushing  into  the  room,  with  both 
hands  extended  to  greet  me,  but  evidently  in  fear  lest  we 


120  REPUBLICAN  PRINCIPLES. 

might  have  no  means  of  communication  :  for  he  does  not 
speak  a  word  of  English,  and  as  I  do  not  speak  a  word  of 
Spanish,  our  conversation  might  have  been  very  brief,  or 
only  in  the  sign  language,  if  we  had  been  limited  to  the 
two.  Hence  his  first  word,  after  his  salutation,  was  "  Vous 
parlez  Frangais  ?  "  "  Oui,  Senor,"  was  the  reply.  And  so 
we  sat  down  on  the  sofa,  and  began  our  conversation.  I 
call  it  conversation,  although  it  was  nearly  all  on  one  side. 
Mr.  Foster  had  written  to  me  that  Castelar  was  a  brilliant 
talker  as  well  as  orator,  and  I  was  too  eager  for  the  intel- 
lectual pleasure  of  hearing  him,  to  allow  myself  to  interrupt 
the  flow  of  what  was  so  delightful.  So  with  an  occasional 
inquiry  to  draw  him  on,  I  sat  and  listened.  First,  of 
course,  he  asked  about  Mr.  Foster,  of  whom  he  spoke,  as 
everybody  does  here  in  Madrid,  very  warmly  ;  from  which 
he  launched  out  into  a  eulogy  of  America  as  "  the  great 
New  World,"  the  world  of  liberty  and  of  peace,  with  a 
longing,  as  if  to  realize  the  dream  of  his  life,  that  he  might 
yet  set  foot  upon  its  blessed  shores. 

From  the  Republic  on  the  other  side  of  the  ocean,  it 
was  a  natural  transition  to  the  Republic  on  this,  of  which 
I  wished  to  hear  his  opinion  even  more  than  to  hear  the 
praises  of  my  own  country.  Castelar  is  an  out-and-out 
Republican.  His  political  principles  he  inherited  from  his 
father,  who  was  so  pronounced  a  Liberal  that  he  was  sen- 
tenced to  death  in  those  "  good  old  times,"  half  a  century 
ago,  when  it  was  a  crime  for  a  Spaniard  to  love  his  country 
too  well — a  fate  which  he  escaped  only  by  taking  refuge 
under  the  English  flag  at  Gibraltar,  where  he  spent  seven 
years.  This  attempted  extinguishment  of  the  father  did 
not  moderate  the  zeal  of  the  son,  who  brought  to  the  sup- 
port of  the  cause  all  the  fire  that  was  in  his  Southern  blood 
(he  is  a  native  of  the  South  of  Spain).  "When  he  came  to 
Madrid  as  a  student,  he  so  distinguished  himself  that  in  a 


IS  CONDEMNED  TO  DEATH.  121 

concours  for  the  post  of  Professor  of  History  and  Philoso- 
phy in  the  University,  he  carried  off  the  prize  over  all 
competitors.  He  delivered  also  in  the  Athenaeum  Club  a 
series  of  lectures  on  the  History  of  Civilization,  in  which 
his  political  sympathies  were  very  manifest.  Like  many 
other  men  who  have  afterwards  taken  part  in  public 
affairs,  he  became  a  journalist,  and  in  1864  founded  "La 
Democracia,"  which  after  two  years'  existence  was  sup- 
pressed, and  Castelar,  who  was  accused  of  being  implicated 
in  an  insurrection,  was  condemned  to  death,  like  his  father 
before  him,  and  for  the  same  crime — that  of  too  much 
patriotism.  But  happily  he  escaped  into  Switzerland, 
from  which  he  made  his  way  into  France,  where  he 
remained  till  the  Kevolution  of  1868  made  it  possible  for 
him  to  return  to  Spain.  Here  he  became  at  once  a  politi- 
cal leader  ;  was  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Republic,  and 
was  for  a  few  months  its  President.  Now  the  Republic  is 
gone,  but  he  stands  fast  by  his  old  political  faith,  not 
changing  because  the  government  of  his  choice  is  a  thing 
of  the  past,  and  he  is  living  under  a  monarchy. 

"And  so  you  still  believe  that  the  Republic  will  come 
in  Spain  ?  "  I  asked  doubtingly.  I  can  still  hear  his  ring- 
ing voice  as  he  answered  "  Oui,  oui,  oui !  "  with  an  air 
and  tone  as  if  he  would  put  to  scorn  the  doubts  and  fears 
of  all  wretched  unbelievers.  But  then,  having  avowed  the 
prime  article  of  his  political  faith,  he  proceeded  to  explain. 
He  is  a  Republican  :  a  Republic  is  to  him  the  ideal  form 
of  government,  to  which  all  nations  must  gravitate  as  they 
become  more  civilized  and  enlightened,  and  capable  of 
governing  themselves.  This  opinion  he  does  not  hold 
privately  disclosing  it  only  to  his  friends  under  pledge 
of  secrecy  ;  but  avows  it  in  his  speeches  in  the  Cortes, 
and  defends  it  in  the  press,  and  thus  proclaims  it  before 
all  the  world. 


122  "  THE  REPUBLIC  BY  EVOLUTION." 

But — and  here  begin  his  reserves  and  explanations — 
while  he  is  a  Republican,  he  is  not  a  Revolutionist,  plot- 
ting secretly  in  dark  rooms  with  low-browed  conspirators, 
and  sending  secret  agents  to  the  barracks  of  soldiers  to 
stir  them  up  to  mutiny.  Against  all  this  he  sets  his  face. 
In  this  he  differs  from  some  of  the  Republican  leaders, 
who  accuse  him  of  want  of  spirit,  and  almost  of  cowardice, 
because  he  is  not  ready  to  march  into  the  streets,  and  take 
the  chances  of  an  armed  insurrection.  But  as  he  has  been 
a  student  and  a  teacher  of  history,  he  knows  that  victories 
so  won  are  as  quickly  lost.  His  theory  of  political  action 
he  sums  up  in  one  word  :  "  The  Republic,  not  by  revolu- 
tion, but  by  evolution  !  " 

"But  this,"  I  said,  "is  a  slow  process." 

"  Yes,  it  is  slow,  but  sure." 

"  How  will  you  prepare  Spain  for  it  ?  " 

"Educate  the  people,  and  then  give  them  universal 
suffrage,  and  let  them  decide  for  themselves." 

"But  would  not  the  same  reasoning  apply  to  other 
countries  ?  " 

Again  the  loud,  cheery  voice  answering  "Oui,  oui, 
oui ! "  and  he  burst  out  anew  with  "  The  Republic  is  com- 
ing, not  only  in  Spain,  but  in  all  Europe."  In  France  it 
had  come  already  ;  it  would  come  in  Germany — yes,  and 
in  Russia  also.  Napoleon  had  predicted  that  Europe 
would  be  Republican  or  Cossack.  Which  it  would  be, 
would  be  settled  when  the  Cossacks  themselves  were 
Republicans. 

Such  were  in  brief  the  points  of  a  long  and  animated 
conversation,  in  which  he  did  all  the  talking.  After  listen- 
ing for  an  hour,  I  rose,  and  he  said  "  Now  you  will  come 
and  dine  with  me  on  such  an  evening,"  to  which  I  willingly 
consented ;  and  then,  as  it  was  the  hour  for  the  Cortes  to 
meet,  he  accompanied  me  on  my  way.  As  we  walked 


AT  HIS  OWN  TABLE.  123 

along  the  street,  he  stopped  every  few  minutes,  as  some 
new  idea  came  into  his  head,  to  be  delivered  of  it  then 
and  there.  It  must  have  been  a  comical  sight  to  passers- 
by  to  see  Castelar  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  sidewalk, 
mailing  a  speech  to  a  solitary  listener !  Of  course  I  enjoyed 
it  immensely.  He  would  have  carried  me  off  with  him  to 
the  Cortes,  but  as  there  was  no  debate  of  special  interest, 
I  went  on  to  the  Museum,  to  calm  my  excited  mind  in  the 
picture  galleries.  What  a  change  as  I  passed  along  the 
great  halls  lined  with  paintings  of  Titian  and  Murillo  and 
Velasquez!  Here  was  Charles  V.  on  horseback,  as  he 
appeared  at  the  battle  of  Muhlberg  (I  had  seen  the  same 
figure  in  the  Armory,  clad  in  the  very  coat-of-mail  that  he 
wore  on  that  terrible  day),  and  I  could  not  but  think  how 
he  would  turn  in  his  coffin  to  hear  such  revolutionary 
sentiments  in  the  very  streets  of  his  capital.  And  here 
was  Philip  II.,  the  bigot  and  the  tyrant,  as  cold  and  sour 
as  when  he  cursed  his  unhappy  kingdom  with  his  presence. 
Now  he  is  dead  and  buried,  and  they  keep  him  safe  in  his 
leaden  coffin  in  the  crypt  of  the  Escorial.  But  in  that 
hollow  chamber  underground,  I  hope  he  sometimes  hears 
the  rumbling  overhead,  the  tramping  of  innumerable 
feet,  which  tells  him  that  the  descendants  of  the  people 
whom  he  ruled  with  an  iron  hand,  are  on  the  march  to 
liberty. 

A  few  evenings  after  this,  I  was  again  at  Castelar's  to 
dinner.  He  likes  to  entertain  his  friends,  but  does  it  in  a 
very  simple  way.  His  household  is  very  small.  Though 
his  sister  is  much  older  than  himself,  he  is  extremely 
attached  to  her,  as  he  well  may  be,  since  she  is  his  only 
near  relative,  for  he  has  no  other  sister  and  no  brother ; 
so  that  they  are  all  in  all  to  each  other.  As  I  was  the  only 
foreigner  present  in  a  company  of  Spaniards,  he  seemed 
to  recognize  me,  with  the  instinctive  courtesy  of  his  coun- 


124  HIS  CONVERSATION. 

trymen,  as  the  guest  of  the  evening,  and  asked  me  to  take 
his  sister  out  to  dinner.  I  was  very  happy  to  be  seated 
by  this  sweet  Spanish  lady,  though  our  conversation  was 
but  limited,  as  she  spoke  neither  English  nor  French. 
But  there  is  a  language  without  words,  the  language  of 
courtesy  (which  no  people  understand  better  than  Span- 
iards), which  almost  supplies  the  want  of  speech.  With 
the  same  consideration  for  what  might  be  agreeable  to  me, 
he  had  placed  at  my  right  a  member  of  the  Cortes,  'who 
had  lived  in  England  and  spoke  English  weH,  with  whom 
I  could  enjoy  little  "asides,"  when  others  were  conversing 
in  Spanish.  Two  or  three  young  ladies,  with  half  a  dozen 
political  friends,  completed  the  group  that  gathered  round 
the  table.  As  I  sat  opposite  Castelar,  he  directed  a  large 
part  of  his  conversation  to  me,  speaking  in  French.  It 
took  a  wide  range.  For  the  time  we  almost  forgot  that 
we  were  in  Spain,  as  he  talked  of  other  countries  and  peo- 
ples :  of  America,  on  which  he  is  always  eloquent ;  or  of 
France  and  Italy — countries  so  like  Spain  in  some  respects, 
and  so  different  in  others.  And  when  the  conversation 
came  back  to  Spain,  it  touched  on  almost  everything 
Spanish  except  politics,  which  was  thrown  into  the  back- 
ground, while  he  talked  of  books  and  men,  of  paintings 
and  cathedrals.  "With  just  Spanish  pride,  he  turned  back 
to  the  great  age  of  his  country's  literature,  the  age  of  Cer- 
vantes (which  was  also  the  age  of  Shakespeare  in  England 
— Shakespeare  and  Cervantes  died  on  the  same  day),  for  whom 
he  has  an  unbounded  admiration.  He  thought  Don  Quix- 
ote was  read  more  than  the  Bible,  which  I  could  well 
believe  to  be  the  case  in  Spain,  where  I  fear  the  Bible  is 
read  but  very  little.  In  Cervantes  as  in  Shakespeare,  the 
chief  element  of  power  was  of  course  the  universal 
humanity :  that  the  fiction,  like  the  drama,  held  the 
mirror  up  to  nature,  so  that  man  everywhere  recognized 


OF  BOOKS  AND  PICTURES.  125 

in  it  to  some  degree  the  reflection  of  himself.  But  Don 
Quixote  was  more  than  this :  it  was  not  only  a  faithful 
picture  of  human  nature,  but  of  Spanish  nature,  with 
graphic  delineations,  not  only  of  Spanish  life  and  manners, 
but  of  Spanish  character.  There  were  a  thousand  points 
which  would  be  perceived  by  no  one  so  quickly  as  a  Span- 
iard, in  which  Cervantes  hits  off  with  a  touch  that  is 
inimitable  the  old  Castilian  pride  surviving  every  humilia- 
tion, and  other  Spanish  traits,  exaggerated  of  course,  as  is 
the  license  of  the  romancer,  but  still  having  the  foundation 
in  real  character  and  life.  And  those  traits  still  survive. 
The  originals  are  gone,  but  the  types  remain.  This  very 
day,  in  the  streets  of  Madrid  and  of  Seville,  may  be  seen 
figures  that  with  a  little  touch  of  the  artist  would  answer 
for  Don  Quixote  himself  and  his  faithful  man-at-arms, 
Sancho  Panza. 

Turning  from  books  to  pictures,  Castelar  talked  fondly 
of  the  Spanish  school  of  painters,  especially  of  Murillo, 
who  seemed  at  once  to  touch  divinity  and  humanity  in  his 
Madonnas  soaring  to  heaven,  and  his  beggars  sitting  on 
the  ground,  covered  with  rags,  but  looking  up  at  you  with 
those  great  Spanish  eyes  that  after  two  centuries  have  not 
lost  their  fascination. 

But  Spaniard  as  he  is,  he  does  not  approve  all  Spanish 
ways  and  customs.  I  touched  him  on  the  subject  of  bull- 
fights, and  I  might  as  well  have  touched  a  bull  with  a 
spear,  for  he  hates  the  very  word.  That  which  to  Spaniards 
generally  is  the  most  exciting  of  sports,  is  to  him  so  brutal, 
so  unworthy  of  a  civilized  people,  that  he  has  no  words  to 
express  his  indignation  and  disgust.  "  There  are  three 
things  in  Spain,"  he  said,  "  which  I  detest — the  wine,  the 
bull-fights,  and  the  pronunciamentos  " ! 

Perhaps  nothing  takes  hold  of  the  imagination  of  Cas- 
telar so  much  as  the  Spanish  cathedrals.  He  is  not  a  man 


126  SPANISH  VIVACITY. 

given  to  religious  emotion  (though  his  sister  is  a  devout 
Catholic),  but  there  is  something  in  the  architecture  of 
those  great  piles,  in  the  lofty  columns  and  soaring  arches, 
through  which  float  the  vesper  hymns  at  the  evening  hour 
when  the  sunset  streams  through  the  stained-glass  windows, 
which,  touches  all  the  poetry  of  his  nature  ;  and  to  hear 
him  describe  them  is  almost  worth  a  visit  to  Spain. 

But  much  as  I  enjoyed  this,  I  could  not  be  so  selfish  as 
to  engross  his  conversation,  while  his  Spanish  friends  (who 
could  not  speak  French,  or  spoke  it  but  indifferently)  were 
silent ;  so  dropping  into  a  side-talk  in  English  with  my 
neighbor- at-table,  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Castelar 
turn  to  his  countrymen,  and  at  once  perceived  that,  how- 
ever agreeable  he  could  be  in  French,  he  was  at  his  best 
only  in  his  native  tongue.  Then  he  spoke  with  a  rapidity 
which  it  was  quite  impossible  for  a  stranger  to  follow.  At 
such  times  it  was  a  study  to  watch  the  play  of  his  counte- 
nance, which  changed  every  moment,  its  expression  varying 
with  every  subject  and  every  mood.  Nor  was  it  in  his  face 
alone  that  the  intense  vitality  of  the  man  showed  itself, 
but  in  every  muscle  of  his  body.  He  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  and  arched  his  eyebrows,  with  a  comical  ex- 
pression of  humor  or  contempt,  at  which  all  present  burst 
into  a  laugh,  in  which  he  joined,  as  merry  a  boy  as  ever 
felt  the  warm  Spanish  blood  dancing  in  his  veins. 
Observing  this,  I  whispered  to  my  neighbor  :  "  Senor 
Castelar  talks  not  only  with  his  lips,  but  with  his  eyes  and 
with  every  feature."  "  What  is  that  ?  "  he  said,  hearing 
his  name.  I  repeated  the  remark,  to  which  he  answered 
smiling  :  "Yes,  one  must  make  use  of  everything." 

But  delightful  as  Castelar  is  at  home — in  his  library, 
discoursing  of  his  favorite  books,  or  at  his  table,  in  tlie 
unrestrained  freedom  of  his  familiar  talk- — it  is  as  an  orator 
that  he  is  above  all  other  men ;  and  to  see  him  in  his  glory, 


A  BRILLIANT  SCENE.  127 

one  must  see  him  and  hear  him  in  the  Cortes.  For  this 
we  were  now  in  expectation  :  for  it  had  been  whispered 
for  some  days  in  Madrid  that  he  was  preparing  to  speak 
on  the  state  of  the  country — a  subject  which  just  then,  in 
consequence  of  the  recent  insurrection,  was  agitating  the 
public  mind. 

When  the  evening  came,  the  Chamber  presented  a 
brilliant  scene,  for  there  was  gathered  an  assembly  such 
as  might  fire  the  breast  of  any  orator.  As  in  England  the 
Lords  will  often  forsake  their  own  House,  and  rush  to  the 
Commons  to  hear  Gladstone,  so  to-night  the  two  Houses 
of  the  Spanish  Parliament  seemed  joined  in  one  :  Senators 
left  the  "Senado,"  and  crowded  into  the  seats  and  aisles  of 
the  "Congreso,"  to  hear  the  Great  Commoner  of  Spain. 
Not  only  was  every  seat  filled,  but  every  standing-place, 
while  the  galleries  were  crowded  with  all  that  was  most 
distinguished  in  the  society  of  Madrid — "  fair  women  and 
brave  men."  There  was  a  large  number  of  high  officers  of 
the  army,  as  the  late  insurrection  had  raised  the  question 
of  the  loyalty  of  the  troops,  while  between  their  glittering 
uniforms  sat  duchesses  and  countesses,  all  of  course  with 
the  inevitable  Spanish  mantilla,  and  fan  in  hand,  more 
coquettish  even  than  the  half-drawn  veil,  as  it  now  hides 
the  dark  eyes,  and  now  is  suddenly  withdrawn  that  they 
may  flash  forth  with  new  splendor.  These  are  the  bright 
eyes  which  "  rain  sweet  influences  "  on  the  nights  of  high 
debate.  Such  an  array  as  shone  in  those  galleries  might 
quicken  the  coldest  temperament :  how  must  it  thrill  the 
warm  Southern  blood  of  the  Spanish  orator !  In  such  a 
press  it  was  not  easy  to  find  a  single  point  of  vantage  to 
watch  the  scene.  Castelar  had  given  me  a  ticket  to  a  pri- 
vate box  reserved  for  his  friends.  But  how  could  I  plant 
myself  there,  where  not  only  Spanish  grandees,  but  ladies, 
were  crowding,  to  whom  my  American  politeness  would 


128  THE  OPENING  WORD. 

constrain  me  at  once  to  resign  my  seat  ?  Accordingly  I 
retreated  to  my  old  place  in  the  diplomatic  box,  from 
which  (though  not  quite  so  good  as  the  other)  I  could 
look  down  on  the  whole  dramatic  spectacle. 

The  Spanish  Cortes,  like  other  deliberative  bodies,  is 
slow  in  getting  in  motion.  There  was  routine  business  to 
be  despatched,  and  there  were  other  speakers  to  be  heard, 
to  whom  the  Cortes  listened,  if  not  writh  marked  interest 
at  that  moment  (for  all  were  eager  for  the  great  sensation 
of  the  evening),  yet  with  attention  and  respect.  This  con- 
tinued for  several  hours.  While  the  slow  debate  dragged 
on,  it  was  a  study  to  watch  Castelar,  who  was  restless  as  a 
caged  lion,  moving  about  in  his  seat,  taking  up  his  hat 
and  going  out  into  the  lobby,  walking  up  and  down,  and 
then  coming  back  again.  It  is  said  that  at  such  moments 
lie  seems  to  himself  to  have  forgotten  what  he  had  pre- 
pared, and  to  be  in  despair  lest  his  attempt  should  end  in 
utter  failure.  At  length  the  other  speakers  had  done,  the 
deck  was  cleared,  and  there  was  a  hush  as  the  President 
in  a  low  voice,  but  which  was  heard  to  the  end  of  the 
Chamber,  announced  "  Senor  Castelar !  "  Instantly  there 
was  an  eager  movement  of  interest  and  attention.  Sena- 
tors and  ex-members  who  had  the  privilege  of  the  floor, 
pressed  in  in  greater  numbers.  While  they  were  crowding 
in,  Castelar  rose  and  stood  for  a  few  moments  silent,  with 
his  hands  clasped — an  attitude  that  is  peculiar  to  him. 
The  throng  in  the  galleries  leaned  over  in  breathless 
expectation,  listening  for  the  first  word.  Soon  it  came  : 
"  Senores ! "  That  was  all,  but  that  was  enough  :  for  with 
the  sound  of  his  own  voice,  every  trace  of  nervousness 
disappeared ;  he  was  master  of  himself,  and  once  sure  of 
that,  he  was  master  of  his  audience.  He  did  not  begin 
with  a  rush,  but  very  deliberately,  as  if  he  were  still  the 
Professor  in  the  University,  unfolding  the  principles  of 


RAPIDITY  OF  SPEECH.  129 

the  Philosophy  of  History.  His  voice  was  low  and  sweet, 
to  which  you  listened  as  to  a  strain  of  music.  As  the  fire 
kindled  within  him,  his  voice  rose.  The  words  came  faster 
and  faster,  till  the  stream  "became  a  torrent,  and  the  breeze 
swelled  to  the  roar  of  a  tempest.  Then  his  gestures 
answered  to  his  voice.  His  hands  were  unclasped,  and 
his  right  arm  extended,  quivering  as  with  electricity,  his 
finger  pointing  wherever  he  would  that  the  lightning 
should  strike.  At  times  he  used  a  gesture  which  I  had 
never  seen  in  any  other  speaker  :  he  would  clasp  his 
hands,  or  even  double  his  fists,  and  raise  them  above  his 
head,  and  then  throw  them  violently  before  him,  as  if  he 
had  taken  a  red-hot  ball  out  of  his  fiery  brain  to  dash  it  in 
the  face  of  his  enemies !  Such  a  burst  generally  ended 
with  a  flash  of  lightning  and  a  peal  of  thunder,  at  which 
he  stopped  exhausted,  and  turned  to  take  a  glass  of  water, 
while  the  great  assembly  drew  a  long  breath,  and  prepared 
to  have  the  onset  renewed. 

From  this  it  must  not  be  inferred  that  Castelar  deals 
in  personalities  in  an  offensive  way.  On  the  contrary,  he 
is  a  model  of  courtesy.  It  is  said  that  he  never  attacks 
anybody  with  violence  and  bitterness.  However  much  he 
may  differ  from  his  political  opponents,  his  exposure  of 
their  principles  is  not  coupled  with  taunts  and  sneers,  that 
would  rankle  in  their  memories,  and  make  them  his  per- 
sonal enemies.  If  he  sometimes  turns  to  an  old  friend, 
who  has  gone  over  to  the  other  side,  it  is  not  with  a  sharp 
spear,  but  with  a  gentle  touch  of  humor  or  wit.  In  the 
previous  debate  Gen.  Lopez  Dominguez  had  led  the  attack 
on  the  government,  even  going  so  far  as  to  say  that  the 
troops  that  had  taken  part  in  the  late  insurrection  had  been 
provoked  to  it  because  certain  reforms  which  he  had  pro- 
posed when  Minister  of  War  had  not  been  carried  out! 
Now  Castelar,  Republican  as  he  is,  is  not  ready  for 


130  VINDICATING  HIS  OWN  POSITION. 

armed  insurrection,  and  so  without  giving  offence,  lie  took 
down  a  little  the  formidable  appearance  of  this  man  of 
war,  as  he  turned  round  to  him  (they  were  both  sitting  on 
the  Eepublican  side  of  the  Chamber),  and  gently  reminded 
him  that  he  owed  his  rank  in  the  army  to  Castelar  himself, 
who,  when  President  of  the  Republic,  gave  him  his  com- 
mand. A  man  is  not  apt  to  stand  in  awe  of  his  own 
creations!  This  quiet  hit  was  greatly  enjoyed  by  the 
Cortes,  which  had  been  a  good  deal  stirred  by  the  domi- 
neering attitude  of  this  military  assailant. 

Again  the  General  in  his  fierce  attack  had  pronounced 
the  doom  of  the  Ministry.  He  had  said  that,  when  he 
returned  to  Madrid  after  the  insurrection,  "everybody" 
whom  he  met  had  declared  the  government  "dead"! 
"Indeed!"  said  Castelar  ;  "and  yet  I  see  before  me  Senor 
Sagasta  still  living,  and  apparently  in  excellent  health  " — a 
sally  which  provoked  mingled  laughter  and  applause  from 
all  sides  of  the  Chamber. 

But  the  main  object  of  Castelar's  speech  was  to  vin- 
dicate his  own  position  in  the  very  mixed  condition 
of  Spanish  politics  and  parties.  That  position  was 
unique,  as  he  agreed  fully  neither  with  the  one  side  nor 
the  other.  In  fact,  he  stood  almost  alone,  and  had  to 
defend  himself  against  friends  as  well  as  foes.  To  justify 
the  course  of  the  Spanish  Liberals,  he  reviewed  the  history 
of  the  country  since  the  wars  of  Napoleon  changed  the 
face  of  Europe,  and  showed  how,  while  other  nations  had 
been  making  progress,  Spain  had  been  isolated.  Cut  off 
by  the  Pyrenees  from  the  rest  of  the  Continent,  she  was 
still  more  cut  off  by  her  own  stagnation.  The  only  hope 
for  her  was  to  rouse  her  out  of  this  lethargy,  and  bring 
her  by  slow  degrees  from  a  state  of  "  semi- Asiatic  des- 
potism "  to  the  enjoyment  of  "a  free  and  constitutional 
government."  The  struggle  for  this  had  been  long,  and 


DEFENCE  OF  THE  REPUBLIC.  131 

the  end  seemed  often  doubtful.  Members  of  the  Cortes 
could  recall  the  time  when  there  was  a  reign  of  terror  in 
the  streets  of  Madrid ;  when  the  most  patriotic  men  in 
Spain,  if  suspected  of  Liberal  opinions,  were  in  danger  of 
arrest,  of  imprisonment,  or  worse.  Not  twenty  years  had 
passed  since  Senor  Sagasta,  to  whom  he  pointed  sitting  on 
the  Ministerial  bench,  as  the  head  of  the  government ;  and 
Senor  Martos,  the  President  of  the  Cortes ;  and  himself— 
were  under  sentence  of  death !  This  lurid  picture  of  a 
despotism  so  lately  overthrown,  showed  that  Spain,  in 
spite  of  all  obstacles,  had  made  great  progress  towards 
liberty. 

After  the  Revolution  there  had  been  several  experi- 
ments of  government,  one  of  which  was  the  Republic,  to 
which  it  was  the  fashion  of  the  day  to  refer  in  terms  of 
disparagement  as  an  ignominious  failure.  They  should 
remember,  however,  that  it  had  been  surrounded  by  great 
difficulties,  foes  without  and  foes  within :  the  Carlist  war 
raging  in  the  North,  and  treason  and  rebellion  conspiring 
in  the  capital.  But  in  spite  of  all,  it  had  left  a  record  of 
patriotic  devotion  to  the  interests  of  the  country,  of  which 
he  was  not  ashamed. 

This  open  defence  of  the  Republic  was  very  significant, 
as  it  showed  how  far  liberty  of  thought  and  of  speech  had 
advanced  in  Spain ;  that  it  was  greater  in  Madrid  than  in 
most  of  the  capitals  of  Europe.  What  member  of  the 
German  Parliament,  even  if  he  were  in  heart  a  Socialist 
or  a  Communist,  would  dare  to  stand  up  in  the  presence 
of  Bismarck,  and  advocate  the  Republic  ?  Yet  here  in  old 
monarchical  Spain  there  is  a  party,  and  a  very  large  party, 
that  openly  declare  their  belief  in  the  Republic  as  not  only 
the  ideal  government,  but  the  coming  government,  and 
that  its  appearance  is  only  a  question  of  time. 

After  Castelar  had    thus  vindicated  his  position  as 


132  OPPOSED  TO  INSURRECTION. 

towards  the  monarchists,  he  had  another  task  which,  if 
not  more  difficult,  must  have  been  to  him  personally  more 
disagreeable,  to  vindicate  it  from  the  reproach  of  the  Re- 
publicans. He  who  makes  a  study  of  Spanish  politics  will 
soon  find  that  there  is  a  great  number  of  parties,  which 
are  almost  hopelessly  divided.  There  is  not  only  a  Repub- 
lican party,  but  half  a  dozen  such  parties.  Some  of  these 
openly  advocate  insurrection  as  the  readiest  means — and, 
as  they  think,  the  only  means — to  inaugurate  the  Republic. 
Against  these  Castelar  is  utterly  opposed.  Ungracious  as 
it  might  seem  to  part  from  those  who  had  stood  by  him  in 
the  conflicts  of  a  former  day,  yet  he  could  not  sacrifice  his 
convictions  of  duty  even  at  the  call  of  friendship.  As  far 
as  political  action  could  accomplish  the  object,  he  was 
willing  to  go  ;  but  when  it  came  to  armed  insurrection, 
with  all  it  might  include  of  misery  to  the  country,  he 
shrank  from  the  abyss. 

Some  of  the  more  ardent  Republicans  had  taunted  him 
with  being  "behind  the  age,"  because  he  was  not  as  rash 
and  reckless  as  they!  Alas!  he  must  confess  he  was 
growing  old !  It  was  a  new  experience  for  him,  who  had 
been  not  long  ago  denounced  as  the  leader  of  the  Radicals, 
now  to  be  reproached  as  too  conservative  and  reactionary ! 
By-and-by  these  youthful  champions  of  the  Republic  would 
leave  him  far  behind,  and  look  upon  him  as  little  more 
than  an  Egyptian  mummy ! 

I  observed  that  these  retorts  were  more  enjoyed  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Chamber  than  on  his  own,  and  that 
the  Monarchists  cheered  loudly,  while  the  Republicans 
were  silent.  Yet  Castelar  is  not  one  to  taunt  his  political 
friends,  even  though  he  may  suffer  from  their  unjust 
imputations.  To  differ  from  them  was  evidently  a  matter 
of  pain.  He  regretted  deeply  to  be  separated  from  his 
old  companions-in-arms.  But  painful  as  it  was,  he  must 


THE  SECRET  OF  HIS  POWER.  133 

be  true  to  his  convictions  of  what  was  for  the  good  of  his 
country.  "What  it  needed  was  not  revolution,  but  stability 
of  some  kind — order,  industry,  and  peace.  And  so  he 
concluded :  "Above  all  political  differences ;  above  all 
parties ;  above  the  mere  form  of  government,  whether  it 
shall  be  a  Monarchy  or  a  Eepublic — I  prize  the  peace  and 
tranquillity  of  my  beloved  Spain !  " 

Such  were  a  few  of  the  points  of  a  speech  which  lasted 
for  hours.  Indeed  it  was  not  ended  that  day  (the  strain 
was  too  great  for  one  sitting),  but  concluded  only  on  the 
following  afternoon,  when,  as  before,  he  touched,  as  it 
were,  every  note  in  the  scale  of  human  feeling,  moving  his 
hearers  at  win  to  laughter  or  to  tears  ;  but  above  all 
minor  emotions,  inspiring  in  them  a  lofty  political  enthu- 
siasm. 

The  effect  of  such  eloquence  it  is  impossible  to  de- 
scribe. If  we  were  to  take  this  speech  merely  as  we  find 
it  reported  in  the  journals  of  the  Cortes,  and  undertake  to 
analyze  it,  we  might  find  it  difficult  to  explain  the  secret 
of  its  power  :  for  while  it  was  brilliant  from  beginning  to 
end,  full  of  poetry  and  imagination,  its  power  was  not  in 
these  alone  ;  nor  yet  in  its  force  of  argument,  or  its  patri- 
otic appeals  ;  but  in  all  combined,  and  fused  together  by 
the  heat  that  glowed  in  his  own  breast.  It  was  the  man  be- 
hind the  words  that  gave  them  their  effect :  it  was  a  human 
finger  that  touched  us,  as  well  as  a  human  voice  that  thrilled 
us.  The  impression  of  course  could  not  be  fully  appreciated 
by  a  stranger.  I  could  follow  it  but  imperfectly,  from  my 
ignorance  of  the  language  ;  and  yet,  as  the  Spanish  is 
largely  derived  from  the  Latin,  I  could  understand  half 
the  words,  so  that  I  could  keep  the  run  of  the  speech, 
even  if  I  had  not  had  (as  I  did)  Mr.  Stroebel  at  my  side, 
to  whisper  the  points  the  speaker  was  making  ;  added  to 
which  was  the  best  possible  commentary  in  the  looks  of 


134  LAST  INTERVIEW. 

the  audience.  Taken  altogether,  it  was  as  great  an  intel- 
lectual treat  as  I  have  ever  enjoyed — as  great,  I  believe,  as 
can  be  enjoyed  in  any  country  in  this  generation. 

Once  more  I  went  to  see  Castelar,  when  I  was  no  longer 
a  stranger,  but  I  may  almost  say  a  friend.  Again  we  sat 
on  the  same  sofa,  and  again  did  his  eyes  look  straight  into 
mine ;  and  as  he  warmed  with  the  conversation,  he  kept 
unconsciously  moving  his  seat  closer  to  me  till  he  took 
hold  of  both  the  lapels  of  my  coat  and  shook  them 
violently,  as  if  by  this  personal  contact  he  would  infuse 
a  little  of  his  Spanish  fire  into  my  cold  American  breast. 
It  must  have  been  cold  indeed  if  it  did  not  catch  some 
warmth  from  such  magnetism.  My  heart  was  all  aglow 
as  I  looked  at  him,  and  remembered  that  this  was  the 
man,  so  full  of  life  and  of  all  the  impulses  of  a  generous 
nature,  who  had  once  been  condemned  to  death !  Thank 
God  he  "  still  lives,"  and  Spain  lives  and  will  not  die ! 

I  had  found  afc  Laurent's,  in  Madrid,  a  photograph 
which  it  was  said  that  Castelar  preferred  to  any  other 
that  had  been  taken  of  him,  and  it  occurred  to  me  that  it 
would  have  an  additional  value  if  it  had  his  autograph, 
which  he  not  only  gave,  but  added  such  kind  words  for 
his  "amigo,"  and  for  the  Great  Republic  from  which  I 
came,  as  made  it  still  more  precious  ;  and  then,  as  I  rose 
to  leave,  he  put  his  arm  round  me  in  the  gentle  Spanish 
way,  that  seemed  to  say  that  he  should  always  think  of  me 
as  a  friend. 

Such  interviews,  with  such  a  parting,  naturally  left  a 
very  warm  feeling  in  my  heart.  But  some  have  said  to 
me  that,  with  all  his  eloquence,  he  is  not  to  be  relied  on, 
for  that  he  is  so  carried  away  by  his  imagination,  and  so 
ambitious  of  oratorical  effect,  that  he  cannot  resist  the 
temptation  of  saying  a  brilliant  thing  even  though  it  be 
at  the  sacrifice  of  sound  reasoning,  or  even  of  historical 


ADMINISTRATIVE  ABILITY.  135 

truth.  "  He  is  an  orator,"  they  say,  "  but  nothing  more — 
a  mere  rhetorician,  a  poet,  a  dreamer,  but  with  no  prac- 
tical wisdom  for  public  affairs."  But  it  was  not  thus  that 
Senor  Moret,  the  Secretary  of  State  (in  the  only  interview 
which  I  had  with  him),  spoke  of  Castelar.  Though  himself, 
as  a  Monarchist,  of  the  opposite  party,  he  represented  his 
great  antagonist  as  a  man,  not  only  of  strong  political 
convictions,  but  of  real  administrative  ability.  Castelar 
was  his  old  teacher  at  the  University,  and  I  thought  there 
was  a  certain  tenderness  in  the  way  the  pupil  spoke  of  one 
who  had  been  his  master.  Salmeron,  he  thought,  was 
more  of  a  doctrinaire — a  man  of  theories ;  but  Castelar,  he 
said,  had  shown  a  high  degree  of  political  wisdom,  notably 
in  the  affair  of  the  ship  Virginius,  which  was  taken  off  the 
island  of  Cuba,  with  her  decks  crowded  with  American 
filibusters,  some  of  whom  were  shot,  an  affair  which  caused 
great  excitement  at  the  time  in  the  United  States  (Sickles, 
our  Minister  at  Madrid,  was  ready  to  demand  his  pass- 
ports), and  might  have  involved  us  in  a  war  with  Spain 
but  for  the  prompt  action  of  Castelar,  who  was  then  Pres- 
ident, and  who  instantly  disavowed  the  act  of  the  Spanish 
commander,  and  ordered  full  reparation.  This  decided 
action  at  a  critical  moment,  Moret  thought,  showed  a 
degree  of  sagacity,  together  with  a  courage  and  firmness 
(for  every  one  of  his  Ministers  was  against  him),  which 
entitled  him  to  an  honorable  place  among  the  political 
leaders  of  Spain. 

"An  orator !  Only  an  orator ! "  Even  if  it  were  so,  yet 
"  every  man  hath  his  proper  gift  of  God,"  and  one  of  the 
greatest  is  that  of  stirring  men  to  high  enthusiasms  and 
resolves  by  patriotic  sentiments,  uttered  with  a  mighty 
voice,  and  with  that  fervid  imagination  which  captivates  a 
people.  He  deserves  well  of  his  country  who,  gifted  with 
an  eloquence  little  short  of  inspiration,  has  never  used  it 


136  "  ONE  THAT  LOVES  HIS  FELLOW-MEN." 

but  in  the  cause  of  liberty.  Nor  has  he  desired  it  for  his 
country  only,  but  has  been  just  as  ardent  for  the  abolition 
of  slavery  in  the  Spanish  colonies,  in  Cuba  and  in  Porto 
Kico,  as  for  liberty  at  home.  He  has  been  the  advocate  of 
the  cause  of  the  enslaved  and  the  oppressed  of  every 
country  and  clime.  Thus  he  has  proved  himself  a  lover  of 
his  race,  of  whom  it  may  be  said  as  truly  as  of  Ben  Adhem  : 

"Write him  as  one  that  loves  his  fellow-men." 

And  so  I  give  my  hand  and  praise  to  the  illustrious  Span- 
iard whose  great  heart  beats  in  unison  with  the  heart  of 
humanity,  and  whose  voice  is  always  the  voice  of  liberty. 


CHAPTEK  X. 
THE  DECADENCE  OF  SPAIN. 

"Whoever  wishes  to  be  well  acquainted  with  the  morbid 
anatomy  of  governments ;  whoever  wishes  to  know  how  great 
States  may  be  made  feeble  and  wretched ;  should  study  the  his- 
tory of  Spain." — MACAULAY. 

Gibbon  begins  his  History  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of 
the  Roman  Empire  with  one  of  his  majestic  sentences, 
which  seems  to  strike  the  keynote  of  the  grand  yet  melan- 
choly tale  which  he  has  to  tell :  "  In  the  second  century  of 
the  Christian  era  the  Empire  of  Rome  comprehended  the 
fairest  part  of  the  earth,  and  the  most  civilized  portion  of 
mankind."  Since  the  fall  of  the  Roman  Empire  no  power 
on  earth  has  attained,  we  might  almost  say  aspired,  to 
universal  dominion  ;  but  of  the  States  of  Europe,  none 
has  come  nearer  to  it  than  Spain  in  the  sixteenth  century. 
"  The  Empire  of  Philip  the  Second,"  says  Macaulay,  "  was 
undoubtedly  one  of  the  most  powerful  and  splendid  that 
ever  existed  in  the  world.  ...  It  is  no  exaggeration  to  say 
that  during  several  years  his  power  over  Europe  was 
greater  than  even  that  of  Napoleon.  ...  In  America  his 
dominions  extended  on  both  sides  of  the  Equator  into  the 


138  SPAIN  IN  THE  SIXTEENTH  CENTURY. 

temperate  zone.  There  is  reason  to  believe  tliat  his  annual- 
revenue  amounted,  in  the  season  of  his  greatest  power,  to 
a  sum  ten  times  as  large  as  that  which  England  yielded  to 
Elizabeth.  He  had  a  standing  army  of  fifty  thousand 
excellent  troops,  when  England  had  not  a  single  battalion 
in  constant  pay.  .  .  .  He  held,  what  no  other  prince  in 
modern  times  has  held,  the  dominion  both  of  the  land  and 
of  the  sea.  During  the  greater  part  of  his  reign,  he  was 
supreme  on  both  elements.  His  soldiers  marched  up  to 
the  capital  of  France  ;  his  ships  menaced  the  shores  of 
England.  .  .  .  Spain  had  what  Napoleon  desired  in  vain — 
ships,  colonies,  and  commerce.  She  long  monopolized  the 
trade  of  America  and  of  the  Indian  Ocean.  All  the  gold 
of  the  "West  and  all  the  spices  of  the  East,  were  received 
and  distributed  by  her.  Even  after  the  defeat  of  the 
Armada,  English  statesmen  continued  to  look  with  great 
dread  on  the  maritime  power  of  Philip."  * 

How  that  which  was  the  first  power  in  Europe  in  the 
sixteenth  century  lost  its  preeminence ;  how  from  the 
highest  position  it  sank  to  the  lowest,  till  that  which  had 
been  the  greatest  became  the  meanest  of  kingdoms  ;  is  a 
study  in  history  which  is  full  of  interest  and  instruction. 
Perhaps  its  very  greatness  was  one  cause  of  its  fall : 
States,  like  individuals,  sometimes  grow  dizzy  when  ele- 
vated to  too  great  a  height,  from  which  they  are 
precipitated  to  their  ruin.  The  moment  of  the  culmina- 
tion of  a  great  power  may  be  the  moment  at  which  its 
decline  begins ;  the  seeds  of  its  growth  may  prove  also 
the  seeds  of  its  decay.  The  discovery  of  America,  which 
came  in  the  very  same  year  with  the  expulsion  of  the 
Moors,  completed  the  glory  of  the  reign  of  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella,  as  it  extended  their  dominion  to  another 
hemisphere  ;  but  it  had  its  dangers  also.  It  awakened  a 
*  Review  of  Lord  Mahon's  "War  of  the  Spanish  Succession. 


THE  OLD  LIBERTIES  OF  SPAIN.  139 

spirit  of  enterprise  that  sent  Spanish  ships  on  voyages  of 
discovery  over  all  the  seas  and  oceans  of  the  world,  which 
brought  back  riches  to  swell  the  national  pride.  But  this 
very  influx  of  gold  was  a  doubtful  good,  for  while  it  added 
to  the  magnificence  of  princes,  it  introduced  a  luxury 
which,  too  long  indulged,  saps  the  vigor  of  the  most 
stalwart  races.  The  mines  of  Mexico  and  Peru,  which 
enriched  the  grandees  of  Spain,  did  not  in  the  same 
degree  add  to  the  permanent  wealth  of  the  country  or  its 
military  power. 

But  a  still  greater  calamity  was  the  destruction  of  the 
old  liberties  of  Spain ;  for  in  its  earlier  and  better  days 
the  air  of  freedom  blew  fresh  and  strong  over  the  Spanish 
mountains.  There  is  a  common  impression  that  Spain  is 
so  thoroughly  monarchical,  and  so  used  to  a  strong  gov- 
ernment, that  she  rather  likes  it,  preferring  an  iron  rule 
to  greater  liberty.  That  this  impression  is  not  just,  is 
proved  by  many  tragic  and  many  pathetic  incidents  in 
her  eventful  history. 

At  the  dinner  at  Senor  Castelar's,  I  was  expressing  to 
a  member  of  the  Cortes  my  surprise  at  the  bold  spirit 
shown  in  the  debates  to  which  I  had  listened.  He  an- 
swered (smiling  a  little  at  my  discovery)  that  this  ardor 
for  liberty  was  no  new  thing  here,  but  a  legacy  from 
former  centuries ;  that  Spain  was  free  before  England 
was  ;  that  a  hundred  and  fifty  years  before  the  Revolution 
of  1688  (of  which  English  historians  make  so  much,  as  if 
it  were  the  very  birth  of  liberty),  the  same  spirit  showed 
itself  here  ;  in  proof  of  which  he  related  the  following 
passage  in  Spanish  history,  which,  as  it  was  new  to  me, 
may  be  new  to  others  :  that  when  Charles  V.  summoned  a 
Parliament  to  meet  at  Valladolid  to  vote  fresh  supplies  for 
his  wars  in  Germany,  the  city  of  Toledo  sent  two  dele- 
gates, giving  them  positive  and  explicit  instructions  NOT 


140  THE  BURGHERS  OF  TOLEDO. 

to  comply  with  the  royal  demand,  saying  "  "What  do  we 
care  about  the  Emperor's  wars  in  Germany?  They  are 
nothing  to  us.  Have  we  not  paid  enough  already  ?  We 
will  pay  no  more."  Thus  instructed,  the  delegates  de- 
parted, but  when  they  reached  Valladolid,  and  found 
themselves  within  the  atmosphere  of  a  court,  subdued 
perhaps  by  flatteries,  or  by  more  substantial  means  of 
persuasion,  they  voted  for  the  supplies  which  they  had 
been  instructed  to  oppose.  Having  performed  this  act 
of  servility,  they  returned  to  give  an  account  of  their 
stewardship.  But  the  bold  burghers  of  Toledo  were  not 
to  be  appeased  by  lame  excuses,  and  without  more  ado 
took  these  unfaithful  servants  and  hanged  them  at  the  gates 
of  the  city  ! 

Nor  was  this  a  solitary  instance  of  resistance  to  royal 
power.  Centuries  before  the  time  of  Charles  V.,  the 
Spaniards  were  noted  for  their  sturdy  independence.  The 
people  of  one  kingdom  for  a  long  time  would  not  accept 
a  king  without  conditions.  "Law  first  and  kings  after- 
wards!" was  the  proud  device  of  Aragon.  From  time 
immemorial  they  had  enjoyed  certain  rights  of  local 
government,  called  fueros,  which  they  stubbornly  refused 
to  yield ;  and  when  they  took  a  king,  they  made  their 
allegiance,  such  as  it  was,  in  this  rather  brusque  and 
uncourtly  fashion  :  "  We,  every  one  of  whom  is  as  good 
as  you,  and  who  all  together  are  a  great  deal  better  than 
you,  make  you  our  king  so  long  as  you  shall  keep  our 
fueros :  OTHERWISE  NOT." 

Such  was  the  inheritance  of  liberty  which  the  Span- 
iards received  three  centuries  ago.  But  their  spirits  were 
broken  by  a  system  of  oppression  the  most  cruel  that  ever 
crushed  the  life  out  of  any  people.  That  very  Charles  V., 
who  had  been  supported  so  loyally  by  his  people  in  all  his 
foreign  wars,  was  the  great  instrument  of  their  subjuga- 


THE  INQUISITION.  141 

tion,  putting  down  the  Communeros,  the  advocates  of 
municipal  rights,  and  beheading  their  leader,  Padilla, 
with  two  of  his  compatriots.  The  fate  of  this  hero  of 
Spanish  liberty  was  very  much  like  that  of  Lord  Russell 
in  the  Tower  of  London.  Like  Russell,  Padilla  had  a  wife 
of  the  same  heroic  mould,  to  whom  he  wrote  on  the  eve 
of  his  execution  a  letter  full  of  devotion  to  her  and  to  his 
country,  to  keep  up  her  courage  in  that  awful  hour.*  The 
story  is  one  of  the  most  pathetic  episodes  of  Spanish  history. 

For  two  long  reigns — that  of  Charles  V.  and  Philip  II. 
— the  great  object  of  the  government  seemed  to  be  to  kill 
the  national  life.  Of  course  that  was  not  its  professed 
object,  which  was  simply  the  extirpation  of  heresy  ;  but  the 
means  were  so  disproportioned  to  the  end  ;  the  instru- 
ment employed  was  so  wide  in  its  sweep,  and  so  merciless 
in  its  operation  ;  that  it  cut  down  good  and  bad  alike,  or 
rather  far  more  of  the  good  than  of  the  bad  ;  and  if  it 
could  have  been  carried  out  to  the  full  extent — that  is,  if 
human  strength  had  not  failed  in  the  bloody  work — it 
would  in  time  have  not  only  extirpated  heresy,  but  extir- 
pated half  the  Spanish  people  ;  and  if  carried  out  equally 
in  other  countries,  would  have  extirpated  a  large  part  of 
the  human  race.  That  instrument  was  the  Inquisition ! 

Terrible  as  this  instrumentality  was,  it  was  deemed  nec- 
essary to  uphold  the  power  of  Rome.  The  Protestant  Ref- 
ormation, that  had  swept  over  half  of  Europe,  had  crossed 
the  Pyrenees,  and  appeared  in  different  cities  of  Spain. 
It  must  be  stamped  out  at  any  cost.  The  laws  of  the 
country  were  insufficient,  even  when  supported  with  the 
utmost  rigor  by  the  civil  tribunals.  To  strike  terror  into 
the  hearts  of  all  who  were  wavering  in  the  faith,  some- 
thing must  be  devised,  more  quick  to  see  and  more  prompt 

*  The  letter  is  given  in  Prescott's  edition  of  Robertson's 
History  of  Charles  V.,  Vol.  II.,  p.  32. 


142  ESTABLISHED  BY  QUEEN"  ISABELLA. 

to  execute  ;  and  this  was  found  in  a  new  Tribunal,  wholly 
independent  of  the  civil  power  ;  which  should  serve  as  a 
spiritual  police,  watching  with  its  hundred  eyes  every  city 
and  town  in  Spain  ;  nay,  every  village,  even  to  the  smallest 
hamlet  in  the  mountains ;  and  striking  here,  there,  and 
everywhere,  with  such  sudden  strokes,  cutting  down  the 
tallest  heads,  as  gave  the  impression  of  a  mysterious,  in- 
visible, and  yet  everywhere  present  and  irresistible  power. 

When  the  idea  of  the  Inquisition  was  first  conceived, 
probably  no  one  dreamed  how  terrible  an  agency  it  was  to 
become  ;  else  surely  it  could  not  have  been  born  in  any 
heart  in  which  lingered  a  spark  of  human  feeling,  of  pity 
or  mercy  ;  least  of  all  could  it  have  owed  its  existence  in 
Spain  to  a  woman,  and  not  to  a  Catherine  de  Medicis,  but 
to  the  gentlest  and  sweetest  of  her  sex,  the  good  Queen 
Isabella,  the  friend  and  patron  of  Columbus.  This  seems 
the  strangest  of  mysteries,  and  yet  it  is  not  so  when  we 
consider  that  the  gentle  Queen,  who  would  have  turned 
away  her  face  from  the  sight  of  any  act  of  cruelty,  was 
completely  under  the  power  of  her  spiritual  advisers ;  and 
when  her  confessor  held  up  before  her  the  crucifix,  the 
emblem  of  that  Cross  on  which  her  Saviour  died,  and 
asked  if  she  would  shrink  from  a  duty  to  her  Lord,  what 
could  she  do — poor,  troubled,  trembling  soul ! — but  sink 
down  in  passive  submission  to  a  will  stronger  than  her  own  ? 

No  sooner  was  authority  obtained  for  the  establishment 
of  the  Inquisition  in  Spain,  than  it  began  to  take  propor- 
tions in  keeping  with  the  tremendous  work  it  was  to  per- 
form. "  Palaces  "  were  erected  for  it  in  all  the  large  cities : 
for  such  was  the  name  they  bore,  though  they  might  have 
been  called  castles  as  well,  their  huge  stone  walls  and 
barred  windows  giving  them  a  fortress-like  character,  that 
often  recalled  the  Bridge  of  Sighs  in  Venice,  with 
"A  palace  and  a  prison  on  each  hand." 


TRIALS  BY  TORTURE.  143 

These  palace-prisons  were  intended  to  be  a  visible  sign  to 
all  beholders  that  the  Holy  Office  was  not  a  myth,  but  a 
present  and  terrible  reality.  If  any  were  so  thoughtless 
as  to  imagine  otherwise,  they  were  quickly  undeceived  : 
for  their  senses  soon  apprised  them  that  there  was  some- 
thing in  the  air ;  it  was  as  if  a  pestilence  were  abroad, 
which  might  well  hush  the  mirth  of  the  gay  Spanish  popu- 
lation. Men  spoke  with  bated  breath,  lest  a  whisper  might 
furnish  a  pretext  for  an  accusation.  No  man  was  safe  even 
in  his  own  house,  for  a  spy  might  be  in  his  bed-chamber. 
Even  while  playing  with  his  children,  listening  to  their 
innocent  prattle,  the  servant  that  swept  his  room  might  be 
listening  for  some  unguarded  word  that  could  be  reported ; 
and  at  midnight,  while  sleeping  the  sleep  of  innocence  and 
peace,  he  might  be  awakened  by  "  the  mutes,"  those  terri- 
ble officials  who  deigned  him  not  a  word,  while  they  took 
him  from  the  bosom  of  his  family,  never  to  return.  Once 
that  he  passed  the  door  of  the  Inquisition,  he  knew  that 
there  was  no  escape.  Over  the  gloomy  portal  might  be 
written,  as  over  the  gates  of  hell, 

"Abandon  hope,  all  ye  who  enter  here !  " 

He  was  thrown  into  a  dungeon  without  the  slightest  inti- 
mation of  what  he  was  arrested  for,  or  by  whom  he  was 
accused.  Here  he  was  left  for  weeks  or  months  to  break 
his  spirit,  and  then  brought  before  a  bench  of  cowled 
monks,  "  a  court  organized  to  convict,"  who  were  eager, 
not  to  ascertain  the  truth,  but  to  make  him  commit  him- 
self. If  questions  failed,  the  instruments  of  torture  were 
ready,  and  as-his  emaciated  form  was  stretched  upon  the 
rack,  which  wrenched  and  tore  his  body,  some  faint  word 
might  drop  from  his  quivering  lips  that  could  be  inter- 
preted as  a  confession,  upon  which  he  was  immediately 
judged  to  be  guilty,  and  the  Inquisitors,  with  holy  horror 
at  the  enormity  of  his  crime  (!),  condemned  him  to  death. 


144  THE  AUTO-DA-FE. 

It  adds  to  the  ghastly  grimness  of  this  horrible  scene, 
that  these  accusers  and  condemners  of  the  innocent  would 
not  execute  their  own  sentences.  They,  the  holy  men, 
could  not  shed  blood  (!),  but  having  given  over  to  death 
men  who  were  a  thousand  times  better  than  themselves, 
passed  them  over  to  the  civil  power  for  execution.  This 
formal  delivery  of  its  victims  was  the  Auto-da-Fe,  which 
had  in  it  so  many  of  the  elements  of  horror,  in  the  cruel- 
ties inflicted  upon  helpless  innocence,  upon  men  with  hoary 
hair,  and  even  upon  women  and  children,  that  it  had  a 
fascination  for  those  who  delighted  in  blood ;  and  so  it  was 
made  a  public  spectacle,  that  was  exhibited  in  the  presence 
of  the  Court,  and  of  the  Foreign  Ambassadors,  who  were 
invited  to  witness  it  (as  they  would  be  now  to  a  bull-fight), 
and  of  an  enormous  crowd  of  spectators. 

"When  an  Auto-da-Fe  was  "  given  "  in  Madrid  (for  the 
writers  of  that  day  speak  of  it  as  they  would  of  a  theatri- 
cal exhibition),  the  scene  of  the  performance  was  in  the 
Plaza  Major — a  square  not  far  from  the  Puerta  del  Sol. 
I  have  been  to  it  many  times  :  for  there  is  no  spot  in  the 
capital  so  full  of  mournful  suggestions.  Here,  sitting  on  a 
balcony  in  front  of  the  royal  residence,  the  King  and  Queen 
and  attendants  on  the  Court  looked  down  on  the  long  pro- 
cession of  victims  (dressed  in  garments  on  which  were 
figures  of  devils  tossing  them  into  the  flames)  who  had 
appeared  before  the  Tribunal  of  the  Inquisition ;  and 
having  gone  through  the  form  of  a  trial,  and  been  con- 
demned, were  now  delivered  over  to  the  civil  power  to  be 
burned.  This  formality  having  bean  gone  through  with,  the 
procession  was  again  set  in  motion,  and  led  out  of  the  city 
to  the  place  of  death,  where  they  were  bound  to  the  stake. 

Such  scenes  of  horror,  recorded  in  history,  were  to 
come  up  after  more  than  two  centuries  as  a  powerful  argu- 
ment for  Liberty.  A  few  years  since  there  was  an  am- 


ASHES  OF  THE  QUEMADERO.  145 

mated  discussion  in  the  Cortes  on  the  subject  of  religious 
toleration — a  step  in  advance  which  was  opposed  by  the 
old  Spanish  Conservatives — when  a  Deputy  aroee  (it  was 
Senor  Don  Jose  Echegargy,  former  Minister  of  Finance), 
who  touched  another  chord  by  the  mention  of  the  follow- 
ing simple  incident.  He  said  that,  in  taking  his  walk  that 
morning  in  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  he  had  come  to  a 
place  where  workmen  were  making  excavations  in  the 
street.  As  they  struck  their  spades  into  the  earth,  they 
uncovered  the  surrounding  soil,  which,  as  it  was  exposed 
to  view,  appeared  to  be  composed  of  several  distinct 
layers.  A  closer  inspection  disclosed  the  fact  that  one  of 
these  was  of  ashes,  in  which  here  and  there  were  fragments 
of  human  bones !  A  little  farther  from  the  centre,  where 
the  dying  flames  had  spared  some  vestiges  of  humanity, 
had  been  discovered  a  ring  that  may  have  once  graced  a 
woman's  finger  ;  and  farther  still,  a  lock  of  hair !  These 
slight  remains  told  the  story  of  three  hundred  years  ago. 
This  was  the  famous  Quemadero,  the  burning-place  for 
the  victims  of  the  Autos-da-Fe  ;  and  these  ashes,  these 
charred  bones,  the  maiden's  ring,  the  lock  of  hair,  recalled 
one  of  the  most  awful  of  human  tragedies,  when  on  this 
spot  manhood  and  womanhood,  the  husband  and  wife, 
blooming  youth  and  hoary  age,  the  father  and  daughter, 
clasped  in  a  last  embrace,  perished  together!  Such  a 
resurrection  of  the  dead  was  more  powerful  than  any  argu- 
ment. Spanish  bigotry  might  remain  stubborn  against 
the  voices  of  the  living,  but  was  silent  in  presence  of 
those  whose  unburied  ashes  were  but  just  uncovered  to  the 
light  of  day.  The  picture  was  a  plea,  more  eloquent  than 
words,  for  that  religious  toleration  which  should  make 
such  scenes  impossible  forevermore. 

But  for  the  time  that  the  Inquisitors  were  at  work,  no 
thought  of  the  indignation  of  future  ages  troubled  them : 


146  CHARLES  Y.  A  PERSECUTOR. 

they  were  too  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  blood,  too  mad 
with  rage  to  kill  and  to  destroy.  Even  Charles  V.  was 
so  carried  away  with  the  fanaticism  of  the  age  that  he  was 
as  full  of  zeal  for  destruction  as  any  Dominican  monk  who 
sat  in  the  secret  tribunal  of  the  Inquisition.  Yet  tyrant  as 
he  was,  he  was  in  some  respects  not  only  the  most  power- 
ful, but  truly  the  greatest,  monarch  of  his  time.  He  was 
not  only  King  of  Spain,  but  Emperor  of  Germany ;  and 
thus  living  in  different  countries,  mingling  with  different 
peoples,  and  speaking  different  languages,  one  would  think 
he  must  have  learned  something  of  the  wisdom,  if  not  of 
the  virtue,  of  toleration.  But  such  was  his  Spanish  bigotry, 
that  all  lessons  were  lost  upon  him.  Luther  stood  before 
him  at  the  Diet  of  Worms,  but  he  sat  unmoved  by  that 
magnificent  plea  for  conscience  and  for  liberty.  Indeed 
ihc  grew  colder  and  harder  to  that  degree  that  he  became 
almost  ashamed  of  his  moderation,  and  even  touched  that 
lowest  moral  state  in  which  he  repented  of  his  virtues, 
regretting  that  he  had  not  broken  his  pledge  of  safe-con- 
duct to  Luther,  and  burned  him  at  the  stake  !  Even  age 
did  not  subdue  him  to  a  gentler  mood.  Once  indeed  it  is 
said  that  a  grain  of  sense  penetrated  his  narrow  brain. 
When  he  retired  to  the  Convent  of  Yuste  to  pass  the  last 
year  of  his  life,  he  amused  himself  with  studying  the 
mechanism  of  clocks  ;  but  finding  that  he  could  not  make 
them  work  as  he  wished,  he  confessed  his  folly,  in  that  he 
had  been  all  his  life  trying  to  make  men  think  alike  and 
believe  alike,  when  he  could  not  even  make  two  clocks 
keep  time  together !  But  this  was  a  transient  impression. 
Worn  out  with  the  labors  of  his  life,  and  under  the  bond- 
age of  his  narrow  creed,  his  mind  sank  back  into  the  old 
groove,  and  he  remained  a  persecutor  to  the  last ;  and  on 
his  death-bed  charged  Philip  to  cherish  the  Holy  Inquisi- 
tion, and  extirpate  heresy  from  Spain ! 


HOW  MANY  SUFFERED  DEATH.  147 

Philip  bettered  the  instructions.  His  heart  was  cold, 
and  his  temper  hard  and  unrelenting.  Entrusted  with  un- 
limited power,  he  would  have  nothing  stand  in  the  way  of 
his  imperious  wilL  So  impassive  was  he  that  it  is  said  he 
never  smiled  but  once,  and  that  was  when  he  heard  of  the 
Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  at  which  he  laughed  out- 
right !  So  fierce  was  his  intolerance  that  it  is  told  of  him, 
that  once  when  he  sat  watching  an  Auto-da-Fe,  one  of  the 
condemned,  who  had  been  a  faithful  and  loyal  subject, 
cried  out  to  him  against  the  injustice  and  cruelty  of  his 
fate,  to  which  the  King  made  reply  :  "  If  thou  wert  mine 
own  son,  I  would  bring  the  fagots  to  kindle  the  flames  for 
such  a  wretch  as  thou  art ! " 

This  work  of  destruction  went  on  for  the  more  than 
forty  years  that  Philip  reigned,  through  which  he  contin- 
ued obdurate  and  cruel  to  the  last,  with  the  natural  effect 
upon  his  unhappy  country.  True,  Spain  in  the  time  of 
Charles  V.  and  Philip  II.  was  so  powerful  that  she  could 
stand  a  great  deal ;  but  continued  wars  abroad,  with  such 
defeats  as  that  of  the  Spanish  Armada,  combined  with  this 
constant  blood-letting  at  home,  made  a  drain  upon  her 
vital  forces  that  began  to  tell,  and  with  this  commenced 
her  slow  but  sure  decline. 

The  deadly  effect  of  the  Inquisition  was  not  meas- 
ured solely  by  the  number  of  those  who  perished — a 
point  on  which  I  have  found  it  difficult  to  obtain  pre- 
cise information.  One  who  is  well  read  in  Spanish  his- 
tory, gives  me  his  opinion  that  from  the  establishment 
of  the  Inquisition  to  the  end,  there  perished  (of  Chris- 
tians, not  including  Jews  or  Moors)  not  less  than  half  a 
million  of  persons !  This  seems  incredible,  but  whether 
there  were  more  or  fewer,  still  more  important  than  the 
number  was  the  character  of  the  victims,  for  these  men  and 
women  who  thus  marched  to  the  stake,  showed  by  that 


148  THE  REIGN  OF  TERROR. 

very  act  their  own  sincerity  and  integrity,  in  that  they 
were  too  honest  to  profess  what  they  did  not,  and  could 
not,  believe.  They  were  the  excellent  of  the  earth — good 
fathers  and  mothers,  good  husbands  and  wives,  good  sons 
and  daughters,  good  brothers  and  sisters.  In  sacrificing 
them,  Spain  sacrificed  the  very  best  portion  of  her  whole 
population,  that  which  she  could  least  afford  to  lose. 

But  the  evil  did  not  end  here.  These  frequent  Autos- 
da-Fe  had  an  effect  far  beyond  the  immediate  circle  of 
the  condemned.  The  whole  population  was  stricken  with 
terror  :  men  hardly  dared  to  speak,  unless  it  were  to  pro- 
claim aloud  their  allegiance  to  the  Church.  Those  who 
were  skeptical  at  heart,  assumed  an  appearance  of  zeal 
lest  they  should  be  suspected  and  dragged  before  a  secret 
tribunal  where  they  should  find  no  mercy.  And  so  the 
nation  was  given  up  to  the  most  demoralizing  of  all 
passions,  cruelty  and  fear,  in  which  its  whole  life  stood 
still ;  its  very  heart  ceased  to  beat. 

This  reign  of  terror,  which  began  with  Philip  (in  whose 
time  the  power  of  Spain  culminated),  continued  through 
his  successors — a  long  line  of  kings,  of  whom  it  were  hard 
to  say  if  one  were  better  than  the  other,  the  only  difference 
seeming  to  be  in  degrees  of  badness.  No  matter  who 
reigned,  whether  one  of  the  House  of  Austria,  or  of  the 
House  of  Bourbon,  all  were  alike  incapable  or  tyrannical, 
the  ready  victims  of  intriguing  priests,  the  tools  of  the 
worst  of  men  and  the  worst  of  women.  But  all  "  cherished 
the  Holy  Inquisition"  as  much  as  Philip,  and  with  the 
same  result,  that  the  life-blood  of  the  nation  slowly  oozed 
away,  till  Spain  fell  back  from  the  first  place  in  Europe  to 
the  second,  and  the  third,  and  fourth,  and  lower  still,  as 
'the  decadence  continued  almost  without  interruption  for 
two  hundred  years — those  gloomy  centuries  in  which  the 
Holy  Office  had  full  sweep  to  do  its  appointed  work.  And 


OPIXIOX  OF  MONTALEMBERT.  149 

it  did  it  thoroughly :  it  killed  Protestantism,  but  it  killed 
Spain  also.  The  grand  old  Spain  that  had  been,  was 
drowned  in  the  blood  of  her  children. 

That  this  is  not  merely  a  Protestant  opinion,  could  be 
shown  by  numerous  quotations  from  Catholic  historians. 
I  will  give  but  one  authority,  but  that  is  the  highest — 
Count  Montalembert,  one  of  the  most  illustrious  Eoman 
Catholics  of  our  age ;  who  belonged  to  one  of  those  old 
French  families  in  which  religion  is  a  tradition,  and  was 
all  his  life  long  one  of  the  most  pronounced,  as  he  was 
one  of  the  ablest,  of  the  defenders  of  that  Church,  alike 
in  the  Parliament  and  the  press.  In  an  article  entitled 
"L'Espagne  et  la  Liberte,"  in  which  he  sums  up  the 
result  of  his  prolonged  studies  of  Spanish  history,  he  says  : 

"Le  jour  ou,  dans  T  ordre  politique,  la  royaute,  avec 
1'aide  de  1'inquisition,  a  tout  absorbe,  tout  ecrase  ;  le  jour 
ou  1'  Eglise  victorieuse  a  voulu  abuser  de  la  victoire  ; 
excluro  et  proscrire,  d'  abord  les  Juifs,  puis  les  Maures, 
puis  les  Protestants  ;  puis  toute  discussion,  tout  examen, 
toute  recherche,  toute  initiative,  toute  liberte ;  ce  jour-l& 
tout  a  ete  perdu,"  * 

"The  article  of  Montalembert  from  which  this  extract  is 
taken,  has  a  curious  history.  It  was  the  last  work  of  his  life, 
and  was  left  in  manuscript  to  bo  published  after  his  death,  but 
his  timid  friends  wished  to  suppress  it.  He  had  however  given 
it  to  Father  Hyacinthe,  with  written  authority  to  make  use  of 
it,  who,  being  at  that  time  (in  1876)  in  Geneva,  caused  it  to  be 
published  in  La  Bibliotheque  Universelle  et  Revue  Suisse  at  Lau- 
sanne. But  so  incensed  were  the  family  at  its  appearance,  that 
they  instituted  a  civil  process  against  him  and  against  the 
publisher ;  and  the  French  tribunal  gave  a  verdict  against  them 
for  an  unauthorized  publication,  although  there  was  no  attempt 
to  deny  that  this  elaborate  paper  on  "  Spain  and  Liberty  "  was 
the  writing  of  Montalembert,  and  expressed  the  deliberate  opin- 
ion of  that  distinguished  man. 


150  KILLING  THE  NATIONAL  LIFE. 

"  Tout  a  ete  perdu ! "  That  tells  the  whole  story.  The 
despotism  which  killed  liberty,  killed  the  national  life. 
True,  the  life  of  a  nation  is  longer  than  that  of  an  indi- 
vidual, and  it  takes  longer  for  it  to  perish.  Rome  was  for 
centuries  in  the  agonies  of  dissolution ;  and  it  took  Spain 
many  generations  to  waste  its  imperial  power.  But  the 
process,  if  slow,  was  constant,  and  the  end  was  inevitable. 
No  nation  can  truly  live  which  is  not  free.  The  sense  of 
freedom  is  the  native  air  of  all  the  qualities  which  make 
a  country  powerful — courage  in  war  and  splendid  activity 
in  peace,  in  great  enterprises  on  land  and  sea.  But  the 
boa-constrictor  of  despotism,  when  it  coils  itself  round  a 
nation,  crushes  everything  in  its  mighty  folds.  Thus  one 
element  after  another  of  vitality  was  destroyed,  till  it  might 
almost  be  said  that  Spain  rested  from  dissolution  only  when 
there  was  nothing  more  to  die. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  RESURRECTION"  OF  SPAIN— A  REVOLUTION- 
FOUR  EXPERIMENTS  OF  GOVERNMENT. 

Out  of  death  comes  life.  The  darkest  hour  is  just 
before  the  dawn.  Two  centuries  had  passed  since  Philip 
H.  was  borne  to  his  grave — centuries  of  shame  and  igno- 
miny— and  Spain  was  at  its  very  lowest,  when  the  morning 
broke  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  found  Europe  agi- 
tated with  revolutions.  The  ancient  monarchy  of  France 
had  disappeared,  and  the  Republic,  established  at  home, 
had  crossed  the  Alps,  and  was  carrying  everything  before 
it  by  the  marvellous  campaigns  of  the  young  Napoleon  in 
Italy.  But  Spain  was  far  away  in  another  direction,  where 
she  was  undisturbed  by  all  these  commotions.  Her  time 
was  not  to  come  until  the  Great  Captain,  victorious  beyond 
the  Rhine,  and  seeking  another  world  to  conquer,  crossed 
the  Pyrenees.  He  had  his  own  scheme  to  carry  out,  in 
which  Spain  was  to  be  a  kind  of  Annex  to  France.  To 
this  scheme  the  King  of  Spain  and  his  infamous  Queen 
and  her  lover  (who  was  the  real  power  behind  the  throne) 
lent  themselves,  not  reluctantly,  but  eagerly.  The  King, 
so  far  from  being  ashamed  of  the  part  he  was  called  to 
play,  that  of  betraying  his  country,  seemed  more  of  the 


152  THE  WAR   OF  INDEPENDENCE. 

temper  of  the  Irish  patriot  who  was  accused  of  selling  his 
country,  and  who,  instead  of  repelling  the  accusation,  only 
replied  that  "  he  thanked  God  that  he  had  a  country  to 
sell"! 

Happily  the  people  of  Spain  were  not  so  degraded  as 
their  rulers,  and  out  of  this  very  infamy  came  a  reaction. 
The  French  were  masters  of  Madrid,  and  put  down  a 
rising  without  mercy,  Murat  having  the  leaders  shot  in 
one  of  the  public  squares.  But  that  set  the  popular  heart 
on  fire.  The  victims  of  1808  are  the  martyrs  of  Spanish 
liberty.  Over  the  place  of  their  execution  now  rises  a 
monument  to  their  memory,  and  the  2d  of  May,  the  day 
on  which  they  perished,  is  a  day  of  national  celebration, 
in  which  the  people  march  in  procession  to  lay  garlands 
on  the  tomb  of  those  who  died  for  their  country. 

Then  came  the  War  of  Independence,  in  which  the 
Spaniards  from  the  mountains  to  the  sea  rose  against  the 
French,  and  aided,  or  rather  led,  by  the  English  under 
Wellington,  drove  them  across  the  Pyrenees,  and  Spain  at 
last  was  free  from  the  foreign  invader. 

But  with  the  r establishment  of  their  own  government 
came  back  the  old  royal  house — true  Bourbons,  "who 
learn  nothing  and  forget  nothing,"  having  learned  no 
wisdom  from  adversity,  and  preserving  only  the  memory 
of  their  old  hatreds,  which  they  were  once  more  in  a 
position  to  gratify.  The  reign  of  Ferdinand  VII.  is  a 
dreary  period  in  Spanish  history — a  long  monotony  of 
government  without  reason  or  justice  or  liberty,  which 
once  provoked  a  popular  demonstration,  the  leaders  of 
which  were  induced  to  surrender  by  a  promise  of  amnesty, 
and  were  then  promptly  executed.  Those  who  came  after 
them,  however,  have  done  justice  to  their  memory,  and 
their  names  are  now  inscribed  in  honor  on  a  monument 
erected  in  one  of  the  squares  of  Malaga. 


THE  SALIC  LAW.  153 

But  let  us  give  thanks  that  kings  too  must  die,  and  at 
last  Ferdinand  VII.  drew  near  his  end.  Yet  even  then  he 
could  not  depart  out  of  the  world  without  leaving  the 
seeds  of  future  wars  behind  him.  The  Salic  law,  by  which 
none  but  a  male  child  could  succeed  to  the  throne,  had 
long  existed  in  France,  but  not  in  Spain.  But  when 
Philip  V.,  the  grandson  of  Louis  XIV.,  and  the  first  of 
the  Spanish  Bourbons,  came  to  the  throne,  he  naturally 
thought  that  what  was  good  for  his  native  country  was 
good  for  his  adopted  one,  and  introduced  it  into  Spain. 
But  Charles  IV.,  looking  out  (as  kings  are  apt  to  do)  for 
who  should  come  after  him,  was  troubled  that  his  only  son, 
Ferdinand  VII.,  was  sickly,  and  would  probably  have  no 
descendant ;  and  fearing  that  the  succession  might  go 
where  he  would  not  have  it,  set  it  aside  by  a  royal  decree 
(the  Pragmatic  Sanction  is  the  grand  name  by  which  it  is 
called)  in  the  Parliament  of  1789,  which  restored  the  old 
law  of  the  kingdom  ;  but  this  was  to  be  kept  secret  till  it 
should  suit  the  pleasure  of  the  King  to  make  it  public. 
In  fact,  it  was  not  made  known  till  more  than  forty  years 
after,  in  1830,  when  Ferdinand  VII.  published  it  just  be- 
fore the  birth  of  Isabella.  But  two  years  later,  when  he 
appeared  to  be  dying,  another  fit  took  him,  and  he  issued 
a  second  decree  by  which  he  abolished  the  first !  How- 
ever, there  was  an  end  to  this  shuffling  :  for  a  strong- 
minded  woman  appeared  on  the  scene,  in  the  person  of 
the  Infanta  Carlotta  of  Naples,  sister  of  the  Queen,  who 
prevailed  upon  the  old  King  to  recall  his  last  act,  using  the 
most  decided  means  of  persuasion — in  fact,  taking  the  de- 
cree in  her  own  hands,  and  tearing  it  in  pieces  ;  whereby 
was  reestablished  the  old  Spanish  rule  of  succession,  by 
which  a  royal  daughter  could  inherit  the  throne  of  her 
father ;  and  thus  it  was  that  the  little  Isabella  became 
Queen  of  Spain. 


154  QUEEN  ISABELLA. 

This  was  all  very  well  for  her,  and  for  her  mother,  who 
was  made  Regent  during  her  childhood ;  "but  how  was  it 
for  the  nephew  of  the  late  King,  Don  Carlos,  who  was  thus 
shut  out  of  his  royal  inheritance  ?  He  immediately  took 
up  arms.  Out  of  this  question  of  succession  rose  the  two 
Carlist  wars  (the  last  of  which  ended  only  ten  years  ago), 
which  drained  to  the  utmost  the  resources  of  the  kingdom, 
causing  an  enormous  waste  of  treasure  and  of  blood. 

At  length  the  little  Isabella  grew  up  to  womanhood, 
and  at  the  age  of  eighteen  took  the  place  of  her  mother, 
the  Eegent,  and  became  Queen  of  Spain.  The  first  feeling 
which  greeted  her  was  one  of  sincere  and  even  enthusias- 
tic loyalty,  as  appeared  from  the  fact  that  though  she  be- 
came Queen  in  1848,  the  year  in  which  Louis  Philippe  was 
overthrown,  and  a  wave  of  revolution  swept  over  Europe, 
it  did  not  pass  the  Pyrenees. 

And  what  sort  of  a  Queen  did  Isabella  prove  ?  I  like 
to  say  all  the  good  I  can  of  a  woman.  Edward  Everett 
Hale,  in  his  charming  volume,  "  Seven  Cities  of  Spain," 
speaks  of  her  as  "  Isabella  the  Bad."  But  why  should  she 
not  be  bad  ?  She  had  everything  against  her — bad  blood, 
bad  education,  and  worst  of  all,  a  bad  marriage,  in  which 
she  was  sacrificed  to  certain  political  designs,  and  forced 
to  marry  a  man  whom  she  loathed.  After  that,  in  the  cor- 
rupt surroundings  of  the  Spanish  Court,  we  can  scarcely 
be  surprised  that  her  manner  of  life  became  the  scandal 
of  Madrid  and  of  all  Europe. 

While  such  was  her  personal  conduct,  of  course  she 
left  her  government  in  the  hands  of  her  Ministers,  who 
wielded  almost  absolute  power.  Sometimes  there  was  a 
muttering  of  popular  indignation,  and  perhaps  a  feeble 
attempt  at  insurrection  ;  but  it  was  crushed  with  a  severity 
that  served  as  an  effectual  warning  to  those  who  would 
repeat  the  attempt.  In  1866  an  emeute  took  place  in  the 


THE  VIGOR  OF  MILITARY  RULE.  155 

barracks,  somewhat  like  the  late  one  in  Madrid.  At  that 
time  the  Prime  Minister  was  Marshal  O'Donnell,  whose 
Irish  name  indicates  his  Irish  descent.  His  grandfather 
was  one  of  the  sons  of  Erin,  who,  belonging  to  Catholic 
families,  did  not  care  to  fight  for  a  Protestant  king  against 
those  of  their  own  religion,  and  so  came  over  to  the  Con- 
tinent and  formed  the  famous  Irish  Brigade,  which  did 
such  service  at  Fontenoy  and  in  many  wars.  This  old 
Marshal  had  a  truly  Irish  vigor  of  procedure  in  dealing 
with  insubordination,  and  as  this  military  outbreak  had 
been  led  by  the  sergeants,  so  that  it  was  called  the  Ser- 
geants' Rebellion,  he,  like  the  fine  old  Irish  soldier  that  he 
was,  accustomed  to  deal  with  things  in  a  military  way, 
picked  out  forty-seven  of  these  sub-officers,  and  had  them 
marched  out  of  the  city,  and  drawn  up  in  line  with  their 
backs  to  a  wall,  and  shot  to  the  last  man.  If  Castelar  had 
been  caught  at  that  time,  and  Sagasta,  and  Martos,  and 
Prim,  they  would  all  have  shared  the  same  fate.  After 
this  display  of  vigor,  O'Donnell  resigned  the  reins  of 
power  to  Narvaez,  whose  extreme  mildness  was  illus- 
trated even  on  his  death-bed,  when  his  confessor  asked 
him  "if  he  forgave  his  enemies,"  to  which  the  old  man 
naively  replied  that  "he  did  not  think  there  were  any 
left";  that  "he  thought  he  had  finished  them  all"!  Of 
course  he  received  absolution  and  extreme  unction,  and 
died  in  the  odor  of  sanctity,  and  is  buried  in  the  Church 
of  the  Atocha,  the  church  of  the  royal  family,  where  kings 
and  queens  and  princes  go  every  Saturday  to  pray  before 
a  shrine  of  the  Virgin. 

With  such  men  in  power,  and  handing  it  down  from 
one  to  another  in  an  unbroken  succession  of  hard  masters, 
it  is  not  strange  that  outside  of  the  official  class  there  was 
universal  discontent.  Those  who  wished  for  better  things 
had  ceased  to  hope  for  anything  from  Queen  Isabella,  who 


156  THE  FxEYOLUTION. 

was  completely  under  the  control  of  the  priests  and  a  little 
cabal  at  the  Palace.  There  were  good  men  in  Spain,  and 
wise  men,  but  what  did  ali  their  wisdom  and  goodness 
amount  to  when  it  did  not  have  a  feather's  weight  as 
against  a  vile  favorite  who  was  always  at  her  side,  and 
whispering  evil  into  her  ear?  Then  it  was  that  men 
began  to  take  courage  from  despair.  Even  those  who  had 
remained  loyal,  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  there  was 
only  one  hope  for  the  country,  and  that  was  in  revolution. 
Such  was  the  feeling  of  the  bluff  old  Admiral  Topete,  who 
had  command  of  the  Spanish  fleet  in  the  harbor  of  Cadiz. 
By  a  secret  concert,  two  other  actors  suddenly  appeared 
on  the  scene  :  Marshal  Serrano,  who  had  been  banished  to 
the  Canary  Islands,  and  Marshal  Prim,  who  was  in  exile  in 
England,  and  came  from  there  to  Gibraltar,  from  which  it 
is  but  a  few  hours  to  Cadiz.  Thus  on  the  18th  of  Sep- 
tember, 18G8,  Serrano,  Prim,  and  Topete  met  on  the  deck 
of  the  flag-ship  Saragossa  in  the  harbor  of  Cadiz,  from 
which  they  issued  the  proclamation  of  liberty.  The  fleet 
immediately  took  up  the  cry  of  its  Admiral,  in  which  it 
was  soon  followed  by  the  garrison  of  Cadiz,  and  next  by 
the  garrison  of  Seville.  Here  was  the  nucleus  of  an  army, 
which  as  it  increased  in  numbers,  moved  northward,  as 
the  troops  of  Isabella,  under  the  lead  of  General  Pavia, 
the  Marquis  de  Novaliches,  moved  southward,  till  ten  days 
after  the  first  proclamation,  September  28,  the  two  armies 
met  nine  miles  above  Cordova,  at  the  Bridge  of  Alcolea, 
which  has  become  historical  as  one  of  the  turning  points 
of  Spanish  history.  The  fight  was  a  desperate  one,  for  on 
it  hung  the  fate  of  a  throne.  But  the  end  of  the  day  saw 
the  troops  of  the  revolution  victorious,  and  the  royal  army 
in  full  flight. 

Queen  Isabella  was  at  the  time  taking  her  Summer  va- 
cation on  the  seashore  at  San  Sebastian,  where  she  was  at- 


A  PROVISIONAL  GOVERNMENT.  157 

tended  by  her  Prime  Minister,  Gonzalez  Bravo,  who  assur- 
ed her  from  day  to  day  that  the  rebels  would  soon  be  an- 
nihilated !  It  was  therefore  a  thunderstroke  when  he  came 
with  a  despatch  in  his  hand  announcing  that  the  royal 
army  had  been  utterly  defeated,  and  that  the  Queen  could 
not  return  to  Madrid !  At  that  moment  Isabella  showed 
that  she  had  a  little  of  the  spirit  that  became  the  daughter 
of  kings,  as  she  answered  proudly  "  If  I  were  a  man,  I 
would  go  to  my  capital !  "  Alas  for  her  ;  she  was  not  a 
man,  and  being  but  a  woman,  she  was  compelled  to  submit 
to  the  stern  necessity  of  the  case,  and  to  be  conducted, 
politely  indeed,  but  not  less  firmly,  in  spite  of  her  tears 
and  sobs,  to  the  frontier,  from  whence  she  was  to  take 
refuge  under  the  protection  of  the  Emperor  of  France. 

The  Revolution  was  complete.  The  Queen  was  safe  in 
Paris,  where  her  late  subjects  were  quite  willing  that  she 
should  remain  ;  and  those  who  had  driven  her  from  her 
capital,  were  installed  in  her  place.  So  far  so  good.  But 
their  difficulties  were  not  ended  :  indeed  in  one  sense 
they  were  only  begun.  They  had  got  the  power,  but  what 
should  they  do  with  it  ?  It  is  easier  to  fight  a  battle  than  to 
organize  a  government.  In  this  perplexity,  the  Cortes, 
which  was  the  only  body  remaining  that  had  any  au- 
thority, did  what  is  so  often  done  in  like  cases  :  it 
established  a  Provisional  Government — not  a  monarchy, 
which  was  to  last  for  generations ;  nor  yet  a  Republic, 
which  was  to  be  continued  by  successive  expressions  of 
the  popular  will ;  but  an  executive  which  was  merely  to 
tide  the  country  over  its  present  embarrassment,  to  keep 
it  from  drifting  into  anarchy,  and  to  prepare  a  foundation 
for  something  more  stable  hereafter.  It  was  therefore 
decided  to  set  up  a  Triumvirate,  and  who  so  fit  to  compose 
it  as  the  men  who  had  made  the  Revolution?  And  so 
Prim,  Serrano,  and  Topete  were  invested  with  the  execu- 


158  AMADEUS  ELECTED  KING. 

tive  power,  and  held  it  for  two  years.  But  none  knew 
better  th0n  they  that  this  state  of  things  could  not  con- 
tinue. The  nation  wanted  something  that  was  not  pro- 
visional, but  permanent,  and  so  they  began  to  look  round 
the  horizon  of  Europe  to  see  where  they  could  find  one  of 
royal  blood  of  whom  to  make  a  king.  At  first  they  turned 
to  a  scion  of  the  House  of  Hohenzollern,  by  which  the. 
throne  of  Spain  would  be  allied  with  that  of  Germany  ; 
but  this  aroused  the  jealousy  of  France  to  such  a  degree 
as  finally  to  lead  to  the  Franco-German  War.  Failing  in 
the  North,  they  turned  to  the  South,  and  fixed  their  choice 
on  a  son  of  Victor  Emmanuel,  Prince  Amadeus,  brother  of 
the  present  King  of  Italy.  He  belonged  to  a  Latin  race, 
was  of  the  ancient  House  of  Savoy,  and  was  a  Catholic — 
three  qualifications  which  answered  to  the  wants  of  the 
Spanish  people.  And  so  he  was  offered  and  accepted 
the  crown,  and  a  ship  of  war  was  sent  to  bring  him  to 
Spain. 

In  all  this  business  of  king-making,  it  was  Marshal 
Prim  who  was  the  Warwick,  the  king-maker,  and  now  he 
was  proud  and  happy  that  his  work  was  done.  But  before 
the  new  sovereign  landed  at  Barcelona,  occurred  an  event 
which  sent  a  thrill  of  horror  throughout  the  country.  One 
evening,  as  Marshal  Prim  came  out  of  the  Cortes,  he  step- 
ped into  his  carriage  to  drive  to  the  Ministry  of  War.  As 
he  was  passing  through  a  narrow  street,  the  Calle  del 
Turco,  which  runs  into  that  great  artery  of  Madrid,  the 
Calle  Alcala,  a  cab  was  standing  by  the  sidewalk,  and  just 
then,  as  if  by  accident,  another  came  from  the  opposite 
direction,  so  that  the  two  blocked  the  street  and  brought 
him  to  a  stand-still,  when  in  an  instant  men  stepped  from 
behind  the  one  that  was  standing,  and  fired  through  the 
window  of  his  carriage.  How  many  shots  there  were,  is 
not  known,  but  certainly  more  than  one  or  two,  for  I 


ASSASSINATION  OF  MARSHAL  PRIM.  159 

counted  three  holes,  and  was  uncertain  about  a  fourth,  in 
the  wall  on  the  other  side  of  the  street,  where  the  balls 
struck     No  face  of  the  assassins  showed  itself  in  the  dark- 
ness, though  it  was  said  that  voices  were  heard,  asking 
"Do   you  recognize  us?     Have  we  not  kept  our  word?" 
But  they  escaped,  and  the  closest  investigation,  continued 
for  months,  could  not  clear  up  the  mystery,  and  to  this 
day  "  Who  killed  Marshal  Prim  ? "  is  a  problem  which  no 
man  can  resolve.*     Though  mortally  wounded,  he  did  not 
die  instantly,  but  was  carried  to   the   Ministry  of  War, 
where  he  lingered  for  a  day  or  two,  and  met  his  fate  with 
the  same  courage  which  he  had  shown  on  the  battle-field, 
finding  consolation  even  in  death  in  the  thought  that  the 
end  which  he   had    sought    to   bring    about,  had  been 
accomplished.     He  said  "I  die,  but  the  king  is  coming.'* 
The    king   came   indeed,  but  filled  with   horror    at    the 
terrible  tragedy  which  shocked  him    as    it   shocked  the 
country ;    and  when  he  reached  Madrid,  he   drove  from 
the  station  directly  to  the  Church  of  the  Atocha,  to  look 
for  the  last  time  upon  the  face  of  his  friend,  who 

"  Lay  like  a  warrior  taking  his  rest." 

In  that  church  he  now  sleeps  beneath  a  monument  of 
bronze,  near  the  tomb  of  Marshal  Narvaez,  who  if  he  could 
but  have  caught  the  young  Gen.  Prim  a  few  years  before, 
would  have  put  a  still  earlier  end  to  his  brilliant  career. 

*  While  these  sheets  are  passing  through  the  press,  a  friend 
long  resident  in  Madrid  writes  to  me  that  the  mystery  of  Prim's 
death  might  be  removed,  if  there  were  not  men  high  in  posi- 
tion and  influence  who  have  an  interest  to  conceal  it.  He  even 
goes  so  far  as  to  designate  the  guilty  parties,  and  to  say  that 
Prim  was  assassinated  by  the  Red  Republican,  Paul  Angulo,  with 
the  knowledge  and  by  the  instigation  of  Marshal  Serrano,  Prim's 
colleague,  then  Regent,  who  was  afraid  that  Prim  would  have 
more  power  than  himself  in  the  new  government. 


160  AMADEUS  LEAVES  THE  COUNTKY. 

This  was  a  sad  beginning  for  the  new  reign.  It  cast  a 
shadow  over  both  prince  and  people.  Yet  in  spite  of  all, 
the  young  king  bore  up  bravely,  and  endeavored  to  do  his 
duty  to  those  who  had  called  him  to  a  position  of  such 
power  and  responsibility.  He  began  very  modestly,  prom- 
ising little,  but  endeavoring  much.  He  took  no  airs  ;  he 
made  no  boasts  and  no  rash  promises  ;  but  went  to  work, 
like  the  simple,  straightforward  gentleman  that  he  was,  to 
fulfil  his  exalted  trust.  His  course  was  marked  by  manli- 
ness and  good  sense.  But  his  best  efforts  could  not  suc- 
ceed, because  they  encountered  the  prejudice  against  a 
foreign  King,  which  is  so  strong  in  Spain.  This  jealousy 
obstructed  his  every  movement.  The  high  circles  of 
Madrid  kept  aloof.  Ladies  of  rank  were  unwilling  to 
take  places  in  the  palace  to  give  dignity  to  his  court.  It 
became  the  fashion  to  speak  of  him  as  "the  inoffensive 
Italian."  The  Spaniards  disliked  him  for  his  very  virtues, 
his  modesty  and  simplicity,  for  they  had  been  accustomed 
to  more  of  royal  state.  Even  his  Ministers  seemed  to  take 
a  pleasure  in  thwarting  his  plans  for  the  public  good. 
Against  this  he  struggled  as  best  he  could,  but  it  was  all 
in  vain,  and  at  last,  after  two  years  of  faithful  effort,  he 
gave  it  up  as  hopeless,  and  one  fine  morning  he  and  his 
queen  took  their  seats  in  the  railway  train  for  Lisbon,  and 
in  a  few  hours  crossed  the  frontier  of  Portugal,  and  Spain 
saw  them  no  more. 

This  failure  of  the  attempt  to  make  a  king  out  of  a  for- 
eign prince,  was  received  with  exultation  by  the  partisans 
of  Isabella,  who  took  it  to  mean  that  Spain  would  have  no 
other  than  one  of  her  own  family  to  sit  upon  the  throne  ; 
and  the  ex-Queen  was  in  hopes  of  being  recalled  (when 
she  would  pose  as  one  who  had  learned  wisdom  by  experi- 
ence), but  the  country  had  not  forgotten  what  she  had 
proved  herself  before,  and  had  no  wish  for  her  return. 


A  SPANISH  REPUBLIC.  161 

On  the  other  hand,  there  was  a  strong  Republican 
party  that  reasoned  thus  :  "  Monarchy  has  been  tried  and 
found  wanting.  Now  let  us  have  a  chance  to  try  a  more 
popular  form  of  government."  And  so  the  experiment 
was  made,  while  Europe  looted  on  in  wonder  to  behold 
that  political  miracle — a  Republic  in  Spain !  Though  its 
life  was  not  long,  it  had  no  less  than  three  Presidents. 
But  somehow  it  did  not  work  :  the  machinery  was  too 
new ;  the  wheels  were  not  oiled  so  as  to  run  smoothly. 
Everything  was  against  it.  Civil  war  was  raging  in  the 
North.  Don  Carlos  had  roused  the  Basque  Provinces, 
and  had  the  priests  everywhere  stirring  up  the  peasants 
in  his  favor.  The  position  was  one  that  called  for  the 
coolest  and  wisest  heads  to  guide  the  ship  of  State 
through  the  breakers  ;  but  the  Republican  leaders,  it 
must  be  confessed,  however  patriotic,  were  not  the  most 
skilful  managers.  Salmeron  and  Castelar,  who  were  Pres- 
idents in  turn,  were  both  Professors  in  the  University,  and 
however  learned  they  may  have  been  in  political  economy, 
they  were  not  the  men  to  deal  with  a  great  crisis,  aggra- 
vated by  civil  war.  The  enemies  of  Castelar  say  that, 
though  an  eloquent  orator,  he  was  a  signal  failure  as  a 
President.  No  doubt  he  made  grave  mistakes,  some  from 
his  very  excess  of  generosity ;  as  when  he  gave  General 
Pavia  command  of  the  troops  in  Madrid,  who  afterwards 
marched  them  into  the  Cortes  and  fired  guns  over  the 
heads  of  the  deputies,  who  made  their  escape  through 
doors  and  windows  ;  as  Bonaparte  had  marched  his  grena- 
diers into  the  Chamber  at  St.  Cloud  and  dispersed  the 
Constituent  Assembly.  So  fell  the  French  Directory,  and 
so  fell  the  Spanish  Republic. 

Then  came  another  interval  of  provisional  government, 
with  Marshal  Serrano  as  Regent.  The  old  soldier  seemed 
to  like  being  the  occupant  of  the  palace  very  well,  and 


162      THE  ARMY  DECLARES  FOR  ALFONSO. 

Madame  la  Duchesse  liked  it  still  better,  and  it  suited  all 
the  officials  around  him  ;  but  it  did  not  suit  the  army  in 
the  field,  which  was  fighting  against  the  Carlists  in  the 
North  ;  and  which,  as  it  was  fighting  to  put  down  a  Pre- 
tender to  the  throne,  preferred  to  set  up  a  real  King,  and 
declared  for  Alfonso,  the  son  of  Isabella. 

This  new  movement  on  the  chess-board  of  politics  and 
war,  of  course  excited  the  indignation  of  Serrano,  who 
promptly  telegraphed  to  the  army  that  its  leader,  General 
Martinez  Campos,  should  be  shot !  But  in  Spain  these 
things  go  by  contraries,  and  instead  of  the  troops  shoot- 
ing their  commander,  Serrano  found  Madrid  too  hot  to 
hold  him,  and  fled  from  the  Palace  to  the  English  Embassy 
for  protection,  and  soon  after  got  out  of  the  country.  He 
came  back  afterwards,  but  was  never  again  in  power.  And 
so  Alfonso,  though  not  elected  by  the  Cortes,  but  simply 
proclaimed  by  the  army,  became  the  King  of  Spain. 

Why  both  army  and  people  turned  to  him,  it  is  easy  to 
see.  As  the  experiment  of  a  Eepublic  had  failed,  it  was 
now  the  turn  of  Monarchy  again.  Spain  must  have  a  king. 
But  where  should  they  find  him  ?  Who  should  he  be  ? 
Not  a  foreigner  like  Amadeus  ;  nor  even  a  Spanish  prince 
like  Don  Carlos,  who  had  been  waging  such  cruel  war  in 
the  heart  of  his  country.  There  was  absolutely  no  one  to 
choose  except  the  young  Alfonso,  who  had  left  Spain  when 
a  boy  with  his  royal  mother,  and  had  had  the  advantage  of 
a  few  years  of  exile,  in  which  to  learn  something  of  foreign 
ideas,  and  of  foreign  laws  and  liberties. 

As  this  young  prince  was  to  figure  as  the  King  of  Spain 
for  many  years,  we  wish  to  know  something  about  him.  My 
information  I  have  from  one  who  has  had  the  best  oppor- 
tunity to  know  him.  Count  Morphy,  now  private  secretary 
of  the  Queen  Begent,  was  secretary  of  the  late  King,  with 
whom  he  lived  in  the  closest  relations  far  twenty  years. 


CHARACTER  OF  THE  YOUNG  KING.  163 

He  tells  me  that  he  was  with  Alfonso  from  the  time  that  he 
was  seven  years  old  ;  that  he  continued  with  him  through 
his  education  at  Vienna  and  elsewhere,  and  that  he  was  a 
young  man  far  above  the  common  ;  that  even  as  a  boy  he 
surprised  his  teachers  by  his  intelligence  ;  that  he  was 
quick  of  apprehension,  and  of  such  open,  frank,  and  en- 
gaging manners,  as  made  him  popular  with  his  compan- 
ions at  school  and  in  the  University  :  that  he  was  a  favorite 
of  the  Emperor  William,  who  took  special  notice  of  him 
at  the  German  watering-places  ;  and  in  short,  that  he  had 
every  attribute  to  attract  friendship  and  respect.  This 
high  estimate  might  be  set  down  to  the  account  of  per- 
sonal regard,  were  it  not  that  it  is  confirmed  from  other 
sources.  Certainly  the  young  prince  showed  a  sense 
above  his  years  in  his  answer  to  those  who  came  to  offer 
him  the  crown,  for  instead  of  receiving  it  proudly  as  his 
due,  and  intimating  that  he  had  but  "  come  to  his  own 
again,"  he  gave  them  to  understand  that  his  acceptance 
was  but  an  experiment,  and  that  if  they  got  tired  of  him, 
they  need  not  take  the  trouble  to  send  him  away,  for  he 
was  ready  to  go  ;  and  that  in  fact,  to  use  his  own  words, 
"he  was  the  first  Republican  in  Europe." 

With  such  frank  declarations  he  came.  Fortune 
favored  him  from  the  start.  The  government  had  long 
been  preparing  a  grand  movement  of  the  army  against 
Don  Carlos,  which  now  took  place,  and  made  a  speedy  end 
of  the  Pretender,  and  left  Alfonso  with  an  undisputed  title 
to  the  throne.  Victory  in  the  field  created  popularity  in 
the  capital.  The  nation  was  weary  of  war,  and  longed  for 
peace.  It  was  tired  of  revolutions,  and  welcomed  a  gov- 
ernment which  seemed  likely  to  be  permanent.  Under 
such  favoring  auspices  Alfonso  mounted,  with  the  light 
step  of  a  boy  (he  was  still  but  seventeen),  to  the  throne  of 
Spain,  on  which  he  continued  till  his  death,  a  period  of 


164  THE  REACTION. 

eleven  years — years  of  peace  and  prosperity.  Such  is 
the  judgment  of  many  who  in  their  political  convictions 
still  remain  Republicans,  but  who  frankly  confess  that, 
"  considering  that  he  was  a  Bourbon,"  and  so  young,  he 
did  not  only  fairly  well,  but  far  better  than  could  have 
been  expected,  and  that  his  death  was  a  national  calamity. 

At  the  same  time  all  Spanish  liberals  agree  that  the 
reestablishment  of  the  Monarchy  was  a  reaction  against  the 
more  liberal  policy  of  Amadeus  and  of  the  Republic.  One 
of  the  signs  of  this  reaction  was  in  the  relaxation  towards 
the  religious  orders.  There  was  a  time  when  the  Jesuits 
were  expelled  from  almost  every  country  in  Europe,  and 
different  monastic  orders  were  suppressed,  and  their  enor- 
mous wealth  confiscated  to  the  State.  In  Spain  a  very 
vigorous  policy  had  been  adopted  towards  them  as  long 
ago  as  1835 — a  policy  which  was  enforced  under  the  Re- 
public, but  on  the  return  of  a  King  the  orders  began 
to  creep  back  again,  at  first  very  quietly,  but  afterwards 
more  openly,  until  now  hundreds  and  thousands  of  monks 
who  have  been  expelled  from  France  and  from  Italy,  find 
a  secure  resting-place  this  side  the  Pyrenees. 

But  while  the  accession  of  Alfonso  was  a  triumph  of  the 
Clerical  party,  it  was  not  of  the  Ultramontane  party,  which 
was  represented  by  Don  Carlos.  This  party  the  government 
wished  to  conciliate,  and  for  that  purpose  went  to  the  ex- 
treme of  concessions,  while  professing  to  be  itself  "  free  and 
constitutional."  The  worst  of  these  was  in  the  matter  of 
civil  marriages.  Under  the  old  regime,  the  Church,  which 
was  the  power  behind  the  throne,  kept  its  hand  on  every- 
thing in  a  man's  life,  from  the  hour  that  he  was  born,  to 
the  hour  that  he  breathed  his  last — including  birth  and 
baptism,  bridal  and  burial.  A  man  could  hardly  come 
into  the  world  without  permission  of  the  Church,  at  least 
he  could  not  be  baptized  and  registered,  and  so  recognized 


ABOLITION  OF  CIVIL  MARRIAGES.  165 

as  having  a  legitimate  existence  :  and  when  his  life  was 
ended,  without  the  same  permission  he  could  not  be 
buried  in  consecrated  ground.  Midway  between  birth 
and  death  stood  the  great  act  of  marriage,  on  which  the 
whole  of  life  turned,  and  which  the  Church  wished  also  to 
keep  under  its  rigid  control.  None  but  priests  could  cele- 
brate marriages,  and  whoever  came  to  one  of  them  for  that 
rite  was  questioned  if  he  had  been  to  confession ;  and  if 
not,  the  priest  refused  to  perform  the  ceremony. 

This  was  a  sore  grievance  to  those  who  were  not 
within  the  pale  of  the  Catholic  Church.  Protestants,  for 
example,  preferred  to  be  married  by  their  own  pastors,  or 
by  the  civil  magistrate.  This  was  one  of  the  first  rights 
to  be  recognized  under  a  liberal  government,  and  accord- 
ingly it  was  enacted  in  Spain,  as  it  had  been  long  before 
in  France  and  Italy,  that  a  civil  marriage — that  is,  a  mar- 
riage before  the  mayor  of  a  city,  or  a  civil  magistrate — 
was  valid  before  the  law,  all  the  children  of  which  should 
be  as  legitimate  as  if  the  rite  had  been  performed,  with  the 
utmost  pomp  and  ceremony,  at  the  altar  of  a  Cathedral, 
and  blessed  by  priest  or  bishop.  Under  this  law  Protest- 
ants were  married  in  Spain  with  no  more  restrictions  than 
they  would  find  in  France  or  in  America. 

Such  was  the  law  when  Alfonso  came  to  the  throne — a 
law  which  it  would  seem  as  if  the  government  hardly 
dared  to  ask  the  Cortes  to  repeal,  lest  it  should  raise  a 
storm  round  its  head,  but  which  the  King  revoked  by  a 
royal  decree !  And  this  was  done,  not  under  the  ministry 
of  some  obstinate  old  Conservative,  but  of  Canovas,  one  of 
the  first  statesmen  of  Spain,  who,  I  am  told  by  those  who 
know  him,  in  his  heart  despises  the  extreme  pretensions  of 
the  clerical  party,  but  finding  it  a  necessity  to  have  their 
support,  threw  overboard  civil  marriage  as  a  huge  sop  to 
the  Cerberus  of  Spanish  politics. 


166  A  CRUEL  DECREE. 

It  may  have  been  statesmanlike,  but  it  was  very  cruel, 
as  it  attacked  the  family  in  its  most  tender  point — its 
honor  :  for  not  only  was  it  a  decree  for  the  future,  but 
one  which  cast  a  deep  shadow  over  the  past,  as  it  was 
made  retroactive  in  its  operation,  declaring  marriages 
that  had  already  been  made  to  be  invalid,  and  branding 
the  offspring  of  such  marriages  as  illegitimate !  Thus  it 
broke  into  the  sanctuary  of  home,  and  affixed  a  stigma  of 
degradation  on  innocent  children. 

The  liberals,  of  course,  were  at  once  alive  to  the  dreadful 
shame  of  such  a  decree,  as  they  saw  its  operation  in  hun- 
dreds of  happy  homes,  and  made  their  indignant  protests 
against  it,  but  without  result.  It  is  not  easy  to  do  right 
after  doing  a  wrong ;  nor  to  undo  that  which  has  been 
already  done  ;  and  it  would  have  been  an  awkward  confes- 
sion of  error  for  a  King  to  have  to  revoke  his  own  revo- 
cation !  And  so  this  royal  decree,  harsh  and  unjust  and 
cruel  as  it  was,  was  left  to  stand  to  the  end  of  his  reign, 
and  was  bequeathed  as  a  sad  legacy  to  his  widowed  Queen. 

But  when  Alfonso  was  dead  and  buried,  and  Canovas, 
as  Prime  Minister,  had  given  way  to  Sagasta,  the  head  of 
the  Liberal  party,  the  voice  of  the  Protestants  was  heard 
again  throughout  the  kingdom,  demanding  the  restoration 
of  the  law  respecting  civil  marriages — a  claim  that  was  one 
of  legal  right  as  well  as  natural  justice.  In  a  country  which 
professes  to  be  free,  all  men,  whether  Protestants  or  Cath- 
olics, stand  on  the  same  ground,  and  so  long  as  they  are 
quiet  and  peaceable  citizens,  have  equal  rights  before  the 
law — rights  which  cannot  be  denied  or  ignored. 

What  then  was  to  hinder  the  Government  from  carry- 
ing out  its  own  liberal  policy  ?  In  our  country  we  have  but 
one  plain  rule  :  to  find  out  the  right  in  a  case,  and  then  to 
go  ahead  and  do  it.  But  Spain  is  not  America,  and  things 
cannot  be  done  in  this  blunt,  republican  way.  The  Liberal 


NEGOTIATING  AVITIT  THE  POPE.  167 

Ministry,  with  the  best  intentions,  feared  to  arouse  the  sus- 
picions and  hatreds  of  the  Clerical  party,  which  are  so  bitter 
in  Spain ;  and  to  allay  this  distrust,  began  the  business  by 
sending  an  envoy  to  Eome  to  enter  into  negotiations  for  a 
concordat  with  the  Pope  ! 

Could  anything  be  more  humiliating  for  a  people  who 
are  proud  of  their  independence,  than  to  have  to  ask 
permission  of  a  foreign  power  before  they  could  decide 
how  they  could  be  legally  married?  It  matters  not  what 
that  power  may  be,  whether  prince  or  priest,  king  or  kaiser, 
or  pontiff,  it  is  a  confession  of  servitude,  and  a  badge  of 
degradation. 

Of  course  the  Pope,  or  those  about  him,  wishing  to 
retain  power  in  all  Catholic  countries,  stoutly  opposed  any 
relaxation  of  the  iron  rule  in  Spain,  the  result  of  which  is 
that  the  decree  against  civil  marriages  still  stands,  and  the 
cruel  wrongs  which  it  inflicts  are  to  this  day  unredressed. 

It  is  discouraging  to  see  such  a  sign  of  reaction  in  a 
country  for  which  we  hoped  so  much;  but  we  are  not 
obliged  to  consider  this  reaction  as  a  persistent  force — 
a  set-back  from  which  there  can  be  no  return.  These  ups 
and  downs  of  parties  are  but  the  ebb  and  flow  of  a  sea 
which,  however  fast  it  may  be  running  out  just  now,  will 
by-and-by  come  back  and  roll  its  thundering  waves  upon 
the  shore.  The  tendency  of  the  age  is  towards  liberty, 
and  that  tendency,  however  it  may  be  checked,  cannot  be 
permanently  arrested  in  any  civilized  country.  In  Spain 
things  move  slowl}%  but  it  is  only  a  question  of  time  when 
this  great  injustice  shall  be  done  away.  If  I  speak  of  it 
now,  it  is  not  to  put  dishonor  upon  a  country  which  has 
entered  on  the  path  of  liberty,  but  only  to  show  that  it  has 
not  yet  attained  unto  perfection,  and  has  to  advance  much 
farther  before  it  can  stand  in  the  sante  rank  with  England 
or  the  United  States,  or  even  with  France  or  Italy. 


CHAPTER  XH 

THE  ESCORIAL— PHILIP  THE  SECOND— THE  BURIAL- 
PLACE  OF  KTNGS. 

What  the  Palace  of  Versailles  is  in  France,  the  Escorial 
is  in  Spain.  Each  is  the  monument  of  a  great  reign,  and 
of  a  great  period  in  history ;  each  was  erected  by  the 
greatest  monarch  of  his  time,  out  of  resources  which  only 
a  kingdom  could  furnish  j  and  each  remains  the  type  of  a 
political  condition  which  has  forever  passed  away.  But 
here  the  resemblance  ends  :  for  Versailles  was  only  the 
residence  of  a  Court,  while  the  Escorial,  reared  in 
performance  of  a  religious  vow,  was  to  have  a  religious 
as  well  as  a  royal  character — to  be  a  Monastery  as  well  as 
a  Palace.  It  has  also  a  peculiar  interest  as  connected  with 
one  of  the  most  extraordinary  characters  in  history.  It  is 
therefore,  on  many  accounts,  the  place  of  greatest  interest 
in  Spain. 

As  the  Escorial  owes  its  existence  to  this  memorable 
vow,  that  must  be  referred  to  at  the  outset  as  the  key  to 
the  whole  design.  Once,  and  once  only,  in  his  life,  did 
Philip  the  Second  venture  near  a  field  of  battle — at  St. 
Quentin  in  France — and  then  he  was  in  mortal  fear  of 
defeat.  In  terror  at  what  seemed  to  be  before  him,  he 


THE  VOW  TO  ST.  LAURENCE.  169 

made  a  vow  to  St.  Laurence  (as  the  battle  was  on  that 
saint's  day)  that  if  he  would  help  him  out  of  the  sore  strait 
he  was  in,  he  would  build  a  monastery  bearing  his  name, 
in  token  of  his  gratitude.  Apparently  the  saint  took  his 
part,  for  he  gained  the  victory  ;  nor  did  he  (to  his  honor 
be  it  said)  forget  in  the  hour  of  success  the  promise  which 
he  had  made  in  the  hour  of  danger,  but  set  about  its 
execution  with  a  deliberateness  and  largeness  of  plan 
which  showed  that  he  intended  to  make  it  the  work  of 
his  life.  Those  were  the  days  when  the  mines  of  Mexico 
and  Peru  poured  their  treasures  into  the  lap  of  Spain. 
What  use  so  fit  to  make  of  this  enormous  influx  of  wealth 
as  to  build  a  Temple  to  God,  and  a  Monastery  for  those 
who  should  celebrate  His  worship  from  generation  to 
generation  ?  With  this  should  be  combined  a  Palace  for 
his  own  royal  house.  The  more  the  King  thought  of  it,  the 
more  the  project  grew  in  his  imagination.  With  all  his 
affected  humility,  he  was  not  free  from  ambition  ;  and  this 
double  pile,  Monastery  and  Palace  in  one,  would  be  a  mon- 
ument not  only  to  St.  Laurence,  but  to  himself. 

Having  formed  his  plan,  he  proceeded  to  carry  it  out 
with  the  energy  and  persistence  which  were  the  strong 
elements  of  his  character.  Selecting  a  site  in  the  bleakest 
spot  in  all  Spain,  on  the  side  of  the  Guadarrama  Moun- 
tains, in  sight  of  his  capital,  yet  so  far  away  from  it  that 
the  noise  of  its  streets  might  not  disturb  his  royal  ear,  he 
laid  the  foundations  of  the  enormous  structure.  The 
material  was  to  be  of  granite,  the  most  enduring  of  stone, 
and  the  walls  of  such  thickness  that  no  earthquake  could 
shake  them  down.  Thus  the  work  was  begun  and  carried 
on  under  the  eye  of  Philip  himself.  That  he  might  get  a 
better  view  of  the  rising  walls,  he  was  wont  to  ride  out  to 
a  point  on  the  mountain-side  from  which  he  could  look 
down  upon  them.  Here  was  a  huge  boulder,  up  which 


170  THE  DREARY  LANDSCAPE. 

were  traced  some  rude  steps,  and  on  the  top  were  hewn 
out  three  seats — for  himself,  his  wife,  and  his  son.  Here 
he  would  come  when  the  work  of  the  day  was  ended,  and 
the  twilight  was  fading  over  the  tops  of  the  mountains  ; 
and  as  he  looked  down,  rejoice  that  he  had  laid  the 
foundation  of  a  structure  which  should  endure  as  long  as 
the  everlasting  hills.  And  so  the  work  went  on  for  twenty- 
one  years  till  the  design  was  complete.  This  was  the 
Escorial,  which  we  were  now  to  visit. 

It  is  but  an  hour's  ride  from  Madrid — that  is  to  say,  it 
would  be  were  trains  run  in  this  country  as  they  are  in 
America.  The  distance  is  but  thirty-two  miles,  which  one 
of  our  "lightning  expresses"  would  pass  over  in  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour.  But  in  Spain  nothing  goes  by 
lightning,  and  hardly  by  steam.  Even  the  forces  of 
nature  do  not  work  here  quite  as  in  the  rest  of  the  world. 
When  the  steam  is  up,  it  seems  as  if  the  engine  stopped 
to  deliberate  whether  it  had  better  go,  having  a  doubt  in 
its  secret  mind  whether  life,  even  the  life  of  an  engine, 
were  worth  living,  if  it  were  doomed  to  such  preternatural 
activity.  Indeed  one  may  say  truly  that  in  this  country 
trains  are  not  "run"  at  all:  they  crawl.  To  a  Spaniard 
time  is  of  no  consequence  :  the  longer  he  is  on  the  way, 
the  more  time  he  has  to  smoke  ;  and  he  is  not  impatient 
that  the  ride  to  the  Escorial  should  take  nearly  three 
hours ! 

Nor  was  I  much  disturbed  by  it :  for  as  we  moved 
slowly  over  the  plain,  bleak  as  a  Scottish  moor,  and  now 
bleaker  than  ever  on  this  "Winter's  day,  I  was  content  to 
sit  in  a  corner  and  look  out  upon  a  landscape  which, 
dreary  as  it  was,  had  witnessed  many  stirring  scenes  ; 
over  which  had  passed  great  armies,  from  the  days  of 
Caesar  to1  Napoleon.  While  thus  absorbed,  the  Guadar- 
rama  Mountains,  which  may  be  seen  on  the  horizon  from 


APPROACH  TO  THE  PALACE.         171 

Madrid,  come  more  into  the  foreground,  though  they  do 
not  improve  on  acquaintance  (having  neither  the  grandeur 
of  the  Alps  nor  the  beauty  of  lower  summits  covered  with 
verdure)  ;  but  with  their  stunted  trees  and  masses  of  rock, 
present  a  picture  of  complete  desolation. 

We  do  not  approach  directly,  but  winding  round  and 
round,  that  the  railway  (which  is  the  great  route  to  the 
North  of  Spain  and  to  France)  may  find  a  passage  through 
the  mountains,  when  suddenly  there  rises  before  us  a 
structure  so  vast  in  dimensions,  and  so  sombre  and  dead 
in  color,  that  it  seems  to  be  a  part  of  the  mountain  itself. 
We  know  it  in  a  moment :  it  can  be  none  other  than  THE 

ESCORIAL. 

And  now  that  we  are  to  ride  up  to  a  Eoyal  Palace,  it  is 
befitting  that  we  appear  with  some  degree  of  state,  which 
is  provided  in  a  huge,  lumbering  omnibus,  that  had 
perhaps  served  in  its  early  days  as  a  Spanish  diligence, 
drawn  by  two  horses  and  four  mules,  the  latter  being 
harnessed  as  a  regular  "  stage-coach  team " ;  while  the 
horses  were  put  abreast  of  the  leaders,  one  on  each  side, 
to  give  proper  dignity  to  this  royal  equipage,  as  well  as 
increased  speed  in  the  ascent.  As  we  took  our  seats  on 
the  top  beside  the  driver,  he  raised  himself  up,  and  leaning 
forward  like  a  huge  bird  spreading  its  wings,  went  "  flying 
all  abroad."  Cracking  his  whip  with  the  energy  of  a 
Spaniard,  he  accompanied  it  with  a  volley  of  exclamations 
(whether  they  were  Spanish  oaths,  or  calls  on  the  saints 
for  help,  I  knew  not),  till  he  grew  so  red  in  the  face  that  I 
should  have  feared  for  the  consequences  had  not  a  second 
appeared  by  the  roadside  to  relieve  him,  by  taking  a  part 
in  his  vociferations.  Thus  urged  and  lashed  to  their 
utmost  speed,  horses  and  mules  started  into  a  run,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  landed  us  beside  the  Escorial. 

During  this  rapid  approach,  I  had  a  chance  to  take  a 


172  ARCHITECTURAL  APPEARANCE. 

nearer  view  of  the  massive  pile,  and  was  disappointed  at 
the  absence  of  architectural  effect.  The  only  impression 
is  that  of  bigness.  Size  it  certainly  has,  covering  nearly 
as  much  ground  as  the  Great  Pyramid  ;  but  the  Pyramid 
has  a  height  in  proportion  to  its  base,  so  that  it  rises 
before  us  in  imposing  majesty  ;  while  the  Escorial  presents 
long  lines  of  dead  wall,  relieved  only  by  thousands  of 
windows,  which,  as  they  are  all  of  the  same  diminutive 
pattern,  need  only  to  have  bars  before  them  to  complete 
the  picture  of  a  Prison  or  Lunatic  Asylum.  It  need  hardly 
excite  surprise  if  a  stranger  who  did  not  know  what  was 
before  him,  should  think  that  he  had  come  suddenly,  in 
this  lonely  place  in  the  mountains,  upon  a  Penitentiary 
large  enough  to  hold  all  the  criminals  in  Spain. 

To  get  an  idea  of  the  magnitude  of  the  Escorial,  there 
is  no  better  way  than  simply  to  walk  round  it,  when  in 
seeing  the  extent  of  its  walls,  one  can  well  believe  that  it 
has  nearly  two  thousand  rooms,  and  no  less  than  five 
thousand  windows!  This  vast  quadrangle  is  divided  off 
into  courts  by  a  number  of  pavilions,  all  so  alike,  and  all 
so  plain  and  bare,  as  to  give  countenance  to  the  common 
belief  that  it  was  modelled  after  a  gridiron,  that  being  the 
instrument  on  which  St.  Laurence  suffered  martyrdom. 
But  this  it  is  by  no  means  necessary  to  suppose,  since  such 
a  resemblance  exists  in  any  building  which  is  laid  out  in 
the  form  of  a  parallelogram,  with  pavilions  connecting  the 
longer  sides,  between  which  the  courts  answer  to  the  open 
spaces,  while  the  structures  themselves  represent  the  iron 
bars.  One  has  but  to  enlarge  the  bars  and  spaces  to  colos- 
sal size — to  cover  acres  with  building  after  building,  and 
court  after  court — to  form  a  good  idea  of  the  Escorial. 
My  impression  was  therefore  against  the  popular  theory  of 
the  model  on  which  it  was  built ;  and  yet  a  friend  who  has 
visited  the  Escorial  so  often  that  he  may  almost  be  said  to 


C3URCH,   LIBRARY,   AND   PICTURES.  173 

have  lived  there,  assures  me  that  the  common  supposition 
is  true  :  that  the  architect  was  expressly  instructed  to  lay 
it  out  on  the  exact  plan  of  that  holy  instrument  of  martyr- 
dom ;  and  that  he  obeyed  instructions  even  to  the  extent 
of  having  four  towers  to  represent  the  legs  turned  upward 
in  the  air,  with  the  church  as  the  handle !  Certainly  no 
gridiron  was  ever  more  wanting  in  artistic  design.  The 
impression  is  made  more  sombre  by  the  entire  absence  of 
color.  Everything  is  on  a  colossal  scale  ;  while  the  use  of 
but  one  material,  granite,  makes  the  whole  as  cold  as  it  is 
colossal.  Not  a  touch  of  bright  color  relieves  the  old  gray 
walls  ;  while  the  gleams  of  sunshine,  often  interrupted,  are 
not  sufficient  to  light  up  the  murky  shadows  of  the  place. 
Within  and  without  it  has  an  air  of  sepulchral  gloom. 

To  this  oppressive  monotony  there  is  one  splendid 
exception  in  the  church  (or  Temple,  as  it  is  called),  which 
is  the  central  feature  of  the  Escorial,  standing  midway 
between  the  Palace  and  the  Monastery,  and  rearing  its 
lofty  dome  high  above  the  dead  level  of  the  roofs  that 
surround  it.  This  church,  if  it  be  not  worthy  to  rank  with 
the  great  cathedrals  of  Spain,  stands  next  to  them.  In  one 
respect  it  has  an  advantage  over  them,  in  that  the  effect  is 
not  half  destroyed  by  having  the  choir  in  the  centre,  thus 
obstructing  the  view  from  every  side.  Here  it  is  with- 
drawn to  the  extreme  end,  over  the  entrance,  leaving  the 
whole  space  of  nearly  four  hundred  feet  with  nothing  to 
break  it,  so  that  the  effect  is  very  imposing. 

Here  then  is  one  part  of  the  Escorial,  in  which  a  man 
of  architectural  taste  need  not  be  disappointed  ;  while  the 
scholar  and  man  of  letters  may  find  a  pleasant  retreat  in 
the  library,  which  was,  and  still  is,  one  of  the  finest  in 
Spain  ;  and  in  the  collections  of  pictures,  though  these 
were  formerly  more  rich  than  now  that  the  masterpieces 
have  been  removed  to  the  Museum  in  Madrid, 


174  PHILIP  THE  SECOND. 

But  that  which  gives  to  the  Escorial  an  interest  greater 
than  all  else,  is  that  it  was  the  creation  of  Philip  the 
Second,  of  which  he  was  the  designer  and  builder,  and  in 
which  we  recognize  his  very  self  carved  in  stone.  The 
interest  of  this  dreary  abode  is  that  it  was  the  home  of 
that  mysterious  being,  who  sat  in  its  heart  three  hundred 
years  ago,  and  from  it  ruled  half  the  world.  His  person- 
ality grows  upon  us  as  we  penetrate  into  the  interior. 
Entering  on  one  side,  we  are  taken  in  charge  by  a  custodi- 
an, who  leads  the  way  up  the  grand  staircase,  and  through 
a  long  succession  of  apartments,  which  remind  us  of 
Versailles.  But  these  do  not  interest  me  much,  so  many 
palaces  have  I  seen,  and  found  them  all  alike,  or  at  least 
having  a  general  resemblance.  These  apartments  have 
indeed  one  unusual  attraction  in  the  tapestry  with  which 
they  are  hung,  woven  after  designs  by  Teniers,  Wouver- 
mans,  and  other  Dutch  artists,  all  which  at  another  time 
and  in  another  mood,  we  should  have  admired  as  splendid 
specimens  of  the  painter's  and  the  weaver's  art.  But  just 
then  we  were  intent  on  something  else,  and  hurried 
through  these  tapestried  halls,  hardly  pausing  even  in  that 
of  the  Ambassadors,  in  which  they  were  accustomed  to 
wait  till  they  could  be  admitted  to  the  royal  presence. 
But  here  we  pricked  up  our  ears,  as  our  conductor  said 
"Now  I  am  going  to  show  you  the  room  of  Philip  the 
Second  "  ;  and  leading  us  along  the  passage  by  which  the 
Ambassadors  were  introduced,  he  opened  a  door,  and  we 
stood  in  the  apartment  of  the  King.  It  was  not  a  secret 
chamber,  but  it  was  a  very  retired  one,  at  an  inner  corner 
of  the  Palace.  This  was  the  lion's  den,  from  which  the 
slightest  growl  set  all  Europe  in  fear  :  for  its  occupant  was 
in  the  sixteenth  century  what  Louis  XIV.  was  in  the  sev- 
enteenth, though  ruling  a  greater  dominion,  and  with  more 
absolute  sway. 


HIS  PRIVATE  APARTMENT.  175 

This  was  the  King  into  whose  private  apartment  we 
were  now  suddenly  introduced.  But  this  very  fact  caused 
a  disappointment.  A  ruler  who  was  greater  than  Emperor 
or  Sultan,  we  should  expect  to  find  surrounded  with  a 
magnificence  which  was  the  symbol  of  his  power.  Yet  to 
our  amazement,  the  royal  apartment  is  the  poorest  and 
meanest  of  all  that  are  shown  in  the  Escorial.  The  floor 
is  of  brick,  and  the  walls  are  bare,  without  a  single  orna- 
ment except  a  picture  of  the  Virgin.  In  a  small  side-room, 
like  an  alcove,  is  his  writing-desk.  In  this  inkstand  which 
I  take  in  my  hand,  he  dipped  his  pen  when  he  signed  a 
decree  that  might  be  executed  on  the  other  side  of  the 
globe.  This  is  his  portfolio — a  simple  wooden  affair,  which 
could  be  folded  up  like  a  checker-board,  and  was  apparent- 
ly made  for  use  in  a  camp,  as  it  is  the  very  same  which  he 
had  at  the  Battle  of  St.  Quentin,  and  on  which  perhaps  he 
recorded  his  vow  to  build  a  Palace  for  God  and  (this  may 
explain  the  bareness  of  the  room  in  which  he  lived)  a  hut 
for  himself!  In  this  room  are  kept  his  one  chair  and  the 
two  stools  on  which  alternately  he  rested  his  gouty  leg. 
To  the  adorers  of  monarchy  it  may  seem  presumption  in 
an  ordinary  mortal,  and  a  Republican  at  that,  to  sit  in  a 
royal  seat ;  but  the  old  custodian,  with  an  eye  to  an  extra 
fee,  drew  aside  the  protecting  screen,  and  I  seated  myself 
squarely  in  the  chair  of  Philip  the  Second  ;  and  that  I 
might  even  assume  the  very  posture  of  "  my  predecessor," 
stretched  out  a  foot  upon  the  same  rest  which  had* sup- 
ported his  ;  and  indeed  as  he  had  two  such  rests  for  a 
change,  I  spread  myself  right  and  left,  that  I  might  lean 
upon  both,  and  thus  be  doubly  supported  in  my  transient 
regal  state.  After  this  extended  experience,  I  can  testify 
that  a  royal  seat  is  not  always  the  most  comfortable  in  the 
world.  Instead  of  being  a  throne,  or  even  a  luxurious 
place  of  repose,  it  was  made  of  hard  board,  without  a 


176  GLOOMY  AND  SOLTTAEY  LTFE. 

cushion ;  and  the  stools  were  positively  disreputable  ; 
while  his  poor  Secretary  sat  abjectly  on  a  still  lower  seat, 
from  which  to  listen  humbly  to  his  master's  will.  All  this 
is  so  unlike  a  royal  apartment,  that  one  would  take  it  for  a 
back  room  in  a  castle,  assigned  to  some  prisoner  of  State 
who  was  doomed  to  separation  from  the  world,  rather  than 
the  chosen  retreat  of  the  Sovereign  who  ruled  it.  Yet 
within  these  blank  walls,  seated  on  that  wooden  chair,  the 
greatest  monarch'of  his  age  made  his  power  felt  in  two 
hemispheres. 

Here  lived  for  fourteen  years  the  most  gloomy  King 
that  ever  sat  upon  a  throne.  Shut  up  within  these  walls, 
he  kept  apart  from  his  fellow-beings,  coming  in  contact 
only  (except  with  priests  and  monks)  with  his  Ministers  or 
the  flatterers  of  his  Court,  or  Ambassadors  from  abroad, 
the  homage  of  all  whom  he  received  with  the  same  indiffer- 
ence, never  rewarding  their  incense  even  with  a  smile,  or 
giving  way  to  any  such  sign  of  weakness  as  might  indicate 
that  he  cared  for  the  praise  of  men.  A  King  of  this 
gloomy  character  could  not  make  the  royal  household 
very  cheerful.  It  could  hardly  have  been  a  great  pleasure 
in  that  day  to  be  invited  to  this  grim  and  solemn  Court, 
on  which  his  presence  weighed  like  a  nightmare.  The 
life  of  Philip  was  so  solitary  that  he  could  hardly  be 
expected  to  have  much  sympathy  with  his  fellow-beings. 
Those  of  the  outer  world  he  scarcely  saw,  and  never  in  a 
way  to  excite  in  him  any  feeling  of  compassion.  What 
were  they  to  him  ?  His  it  was  to  execute  the  will  of  God, 
no  matter  what  destruction  it  caused.  From  this  chamber 
he  sent  forth  his  decrees  to  all  parts  of  the  world — decrees 
often  the  most  cruel — now  to  the  Duke  of  Alva  to  crush 
the  rising  spirit  of  the  Netherlands,  and  now  to  Cortez  in 
Mexico  or  Pizarro  in  Peru,  giving  them  full  leave  to 
execute  their  bloody  will,  little  heeding  how  much  of 


THE  KING  AT  HIS  PRAYERS.  177 

human  misery  the  execution  of  his  orders  might  involve. 
Having  thus  discharged  his  mind  of  the  cares  of  State, 
having  performed  his  public  duties,  he  turned  to  what 
was  his  only  relief — that  of  prayer.  His  apartment  had 
been  chosen  close  to  the  church,  with  a  small  oratory  that 
had  a  window  opening  on  the  high  altar,  at  which  he  could 
kneel  and  pray.  When  he  was  at  his  devotions,  no  one 
dared  to  disturb  him.  His  life  was  as  much  that  of  a 
monk  as  a  king.  He  slept  in  a  monk's  cell,  and  daily 
joined  with  them  in  their  prayers.  For  this  purpose  he 
did  not  have  to  descend  into  the  church  :  for  he  could 
pass  along  the  gallery  to  the  choir — a  gallery  so  massive 
in  its  arches  and  their  supporting  columns,  that  it  seems 
as  if  the  whole  had  been  tunnelled  out  of  the  living  rock, 
like  the  galleries  at  Gibraltar.  Along  this  corridor,  where 
his  footfall  woke  only  the  dull  sound  of  the  echoing  stone, 
the  King  stole  softly  at  the  sound  of  the  vesper-bell. 
"When  the  two  hundred  monks  of  the  monastery  had  filed 
into  their  places  in  the  choir,  he  entered  by  a  private  door, 
and  took  his  seat  among  them,  as  if  he  were  one  of  the 
brethren.  His  "  stall "  was  in  the  farthest  corner,  where 
he  could  not  be  observed,  and  yet  could  see  and  hear  all, 
keeping  his  eye  on  the  high  altar,  and  joining  fervently  in 
the  prayers  for  the  living  and  the  dead.  There,  as  he 
bowed  upon  his  knees,  we  may  hope  that  his  spirit  was 
truly  humbled  under  the  spell  of  the  place  and  the  hour  ; 
that  for  once  he  forgot  that  he  was  king  in  the  presence 
of  Him  who  was  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords. 

Philip  lived  in  the  Escorial  fourteen  years  to  a  day. 
But  to  kings  as  to  meaner  men,  the  last  hour  must  come. 
He  was  in  Madrid  when  he  was  seized  with  the  fatal 
illness,  and  he  insisted  on  being  carried  back  to  the 
Escorial.  Fifty-three  days  he  lay  dying,  during  which  he 
suffered  in  mind  as  in  body.  Priests  and  confessors  stood 


178  THE  DEATH  OF  PHILIP. 

round  him,  ready  to  absolve  him  from  his  sins  ;  but  that 
did  not  relieve  his  conscience.  With  all  that  he  had  done 
for  the  Church,  he  was  haunted  by  a  fear  that  he  had 
committed  some  deadly  sin,  for  which  he  should  be 
condemned  at  the  final  bar.  He  had  doomed  his  fellow- 
creatures  to  death  :  what  if  they  should  rise  up  against 
him,  and  call  upon  God  for  judgment  ?  Doubts  and  fears 
pressed  upon  him  as  he  drew  near  the  final  hour.  It  was 
but  a  little  group  that  could  be  gathered  in  the  oratory 
where  he  had  been  wont  to  pray,  and  even  to  these  he  was 
oblivious.  The  window  was  opened  into  the  church,  and 
he  had  no  eyes  for  anything  but  what  was  there.  Clasping 
in  his  hand  the  crucifix  which  his  father,  Charles  V., 
pressed  to  his  dying  lips,  with  his  agonized  gaze  fixed  on 
the  high  altar,  the  soul  of  Philip  the  Second  passed  to  the 
presence  of  God. 

What  shall  we  say  of  such  a  man?  That  he  was  "the 
greatest  and  meanest "  of  mankind  ?  No  :  he  was  far 
from  being  the  greatest,  and  yet  he  had  great  qualities, 
great  force  of  will,  great  persistence  in  his  designs,  and 
great  equanimity  in  victory  or  defeat.  It  was  no  ordinary 
self-control  that  would  not  permit  him  to  rise  from  his 
knees  even  to  hear  the  tidings  of  the  victory  of  Lepanto, 
which  saved  Christendom  from  the  Turk ;  and  it  was  no 
common  firmness  that  could  receive  the  news  of  the 
destruction  of  the  Armada  (which  had  cost  him  eighteen 
years  of  preparation,  and  hundreds  of  millions  of  money) 
without  moving  a  muscle,  only  dropping  a  philosophical 
observation  about  the  vicissitudes  of  human  fortune,  and 
thanking  God  that  if  one  Armada  was  destroyed,  he  had 
still  the  means  to  build  another. 

Judged  by  his  devotion  to  the  Church,  Philip  was  one 
of  the  most  religious  of  men.  He  was  exact  in  his 
observances ;  he  fasted  and  prayed  and  submitted  to 


THE  BURIAL-PLACE  OF  KINGS.  170 

penances ;  though  suffering  a  disease  which  often  caused 
agony,  he  allowed  himself  no  indulgences ;  he  sat  in  a 
hard  chair  and  slept  on  a  hard  bed,  and  was  more  rigid 
and  exacting  than  any  confessor  towards  himself. 

And  yet  this  cold,  impassive  man,  who  allowed  himself 
no  pleasures,  and  whose  self-denials,  if  rightly  directed, 
might  have  made  the  happiness  of  millions,  was  one  of  the 
worst  men  that  ever  sat  upon  a  throne.  Few  men  can  be 
named  in  history  who  have  caused  more  misery  to  the 
human  race.  He  ruined  his  country  by  his  persecutions 
and  his  wars  ;  he  sent  thousands  of  the  best  men  in  Spain 
to  the  stake  without  a  twinge  of  remorse  ;  and  he  suffered 
Cortez  and  Pizarro  to  commit  the  most  horrid  crimes  in 
Mexico  and  Peru,  in  the  name  of  Christ !  Thus  he  shed 
blood  like  water,  both  in  his  own  unhappy  country  and  in 
the  ends  of  the  earth.  After  all  this,  how  can  we  help 
feeling  that  it  was  a  just  retribution — if  it  be  true,  as 
historians  tell  us — that  on  his  death-bed  he  suffered  the 
torments  of  hell,  since  under  the  government  of  God  it  is 
the  inexorable  law  that  "he  shall  have  judgment  without 
mercy  that  showed  no  mercy  "  ? 

I  do  not  wish  to  linger  in  the  Escorial :  it  is  too  dark 
and  gloomy.  But  there  is  one  feature  which  needs  to  be 
added  to  complete  the  picture  of  the  place.  We  have 
seen  the  room  in  which  Philip  the  Second  lived  and  died ; 
we  may  now  descend  into  the  crypt  in  which  his  body 
rests,  with  others  of  the  royal  dead.  Charles  the  Fifth 
abdicated  his  throne  the  year  before  his  death,  and  retired 
to  the  Convent  of  Yuste  in  Spain,  there  to  consider  his 
latter  end,  and  prepare  for  his  departure.  In  this  year 
of  meditation,  his  thoughts  were  occupied  with  his  own 
future,  and  seemed  to  be  divided  between  the  care  of  his 
body  and  the  salvation  of  his  soul.  For  the  former  he 
enjoined  his  son  to  prepare  a  royal  burial-place.  Philip 


180  OBTAINING  ADMISSION. 

therefore  included  in  his  plan  of  the  Escorial  a  Mausoleum 
into  which  should  be  gathered,  generation  after  generation, 
the  long  and  illustrious  line  of  Spanish  kings.  This  is  the 
famous  "  Pantheon,"  which  is  an  object  of  peculiar  interest. 
But  how  to  obtain  access  to  it,  was  the  question.  It 
was  undergoing  extensive  alterations,  during  which  visitors 
were  rigidly  excluded.  The  orders  were  peremptory,  and 
I  was  told  in  Madrid  that  admission  was  "impossible." 
Even  Mr.  Curry  had  found,  on  a  recent  visit,  that  his 
official  position  did  not  avail  to  unbar  the  doors ;  and 
yet  it  was  through  him  that  I  obtained  what  he  had 
not  obtained  for  himself.  As  his  house  is  a  place  of 
social  reunions  which  include  many  connected  with  the 
government,  it  was  there  that  I  met  the  Introducer  of 
Ambassadors,  to  whom  Mr.  Curry  preferred  my  request. 
He  was  very  courteous,  as  Spanish  officials  generally  are, 
and  said  that,  although  it  was  very  difficult,  he  would  do 
what  he  could.  A  day  or  two  after  he  came  to  tell  me 
that  the  Pantheon,  which  is  in  the  crypt  of  the  church, 
was,  like  the  Monastery  itself,  under  the  care  of  a  religious 
order,  and  that  therefore  he  had  brought  me,  as  the  most 
likely  to  be  of  service,  a  letter  to  the  Prior,  in  which  he 
had  introduced  me  as  "  a  learned  American  gentleman," 
and  requested  as  a  special  favor  that  the  doors  which  were 
shut  in  the  face  of  the  outside  world,  might  be  opened  to 
me.  Armed  with  this,  Mr.  Gulick  and  myself,  after  we 
had  been  through  the  Palace,  presented  ourselves  at  the 
door  of  the  Monastery,  and  giving  the  letter  to  a  young 
monk,  asked  him  to  take  it  to  his  Superior.  In  a  few 
minutes  he  returned  with  it  in  his  hand,  and  a  direction 
that  it  should  be  shown  to  the  official  in  charge  of  the 
works,  whom  we  found  in  the  corridor,  and  to  whom  we 
presented  our  "  commission."  He  read  it  over  carefully, 
and  raising  his  eyes,  acknowledged  a  request  coming 


FIRST  PORTION  OF  THE  CRYPT.  181 

from  the  Palace,  and  approved  by  the  Prior,  as  an  instruc- 
tion which  he  could  not  disregard,  and  said  that  if  we 
would  meet  him  at  two  o'clock  at  a  certain  gate  at  the 
rear  of  the  church,  he  would  be  there  to  open  it  for  us, 
and  would  himself  conduct  us  to  what  we  had  so  much 
desired  to  see.  At  the  appointed  hour  we  were  on  the 
spot,  where  he  had  just  arrived,  and  at  once  the  heavy 
bolt  was  unlocked,  the  iron  door  swung  open,  and  we 
descended  into  the  Sepulchre  of  Kings. 

The  first  portion  of  the  crypt  into  which  we  were 
introduced,  seemed  quite  new,  or  at  least  newly  arranged 
— a  sort  of  Annex  to  the  Pantheon,  which  was  greatly 
needed  :  for  here,  as  in  humbler  burial-places,  there  are 
constant  accessions  to  the  number  of  the  departed. 
"Death  knocks  alike  at  the  palace  gate  and  the  cottage 
door,"  and  here,  as  in  country  graveyards,  where 
"  The  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet  sleep," 
there  is  a  constant  cry  of  "  Boom,  room  for  the  dead !  " 
And  so  new  forms,  of  the  young  as  well  as  the  old,  are 
brought  to  the  embrace  of  this  royal,  yet  cold  and  silent, 
place  of  rest. 

This  addition  to  the  Pantheon,  the  newer  part,  is  much 
larger  than  the  old,  as  here  are  deposited  the  remains  of 
those  members  of  the  royal  families  who  did  not  sit  upon 
a  throne.  In  Spain  the  order  of  precedence  is  strictly 
observed  even  in  the  grave,  and  the  Pantheon,  which  is 
limited  in  size,  is  reserved  only  for  kings  and  queens.  It 
may  be  said  to  keep  guard  over  the  royal  line  as  something 
sacred,  not  to  be  confused  with  anything  of  inferior  blood, 
even  if  it  be  their  own  blood,  and  no  one  can  pass  its  grim 
portal  who  has  not  in  person  sat  upon  a  throne,  or  at  least 
shared  a  throne  with  a  king  as  his  queen,  or  with  a  reign- 
ing queen  as  a  king-consort.  And  not  all  queens  are  ad- 
mitted, but  those  only  who  have  been  the  mothers  of  kings. 


182         THE  TOMB  OF  DON  CARLOS. 

Thus  Philip  the  Second  had  four  wives,  of  whom  only 
one,  the  mother  of  Philip  the  Third,  is  buried  in  the  Pan- 
theon, while  two  others  [one,  "Bloody  Mary,"  is  buried  in 
England]  are  retired  to  that  part  of  the  crypt  which  we 
are  now  entering,  where  they  sleep  only  among  princes 
and  princesses.  But  if  the  dead  could  choose  their  resting 
place,  one  would  think  that  they  would  prefer  this  outer 
court  to  the  other.  True,  the  Pantheon  is  more  select, 
but  it  is  darker  and  gloomier,  as  it  is  farther  under 
ground,  while  here  the  pavement  is  but  a  few  feet  below 
the  earth,  so  that  it  is  within  reach  of  light  from  the  upper 
air,  which,  as  it  is  admitted  through  windows  of  ground 
glass,  rests  softly  on  the  white  marble  under  which  the 
dead  repose.  With  such  gleams  of  sunshine  amid  the 
shadows,  the  dead  are  nearer  to  the  living  world  above 
them,  and,  one  would  think,  might  sleep  more  tranquilly 
than  if  buried  in  utter  darkness. 

One  familiar  with  Spanish  history  would  pause  long 
before  these  sarcophagi,  above  which  is  inscribed  upon 
the  wall  many  a  name  associated  with  royal  splendor. 
Here  rest  two  of  the  wives  of  Philip  the  Second,  each  of 
whom,  in  her  turn,  presided  over  his  gloomy  Court.  But 
here  too  are  names  which  recall  sad  histories.  Here 
sleeps  the  king's  son,  Don  Carlos,  whose  unhappy  fate 
suggested  to  Schiller  the  subject  for  a  tragedy,  but  no 
blood-curdling  scene  upon  the  stage  could  equal  the  real 
tragedy  of  one  who,  born  to  a  throne,  was  accused  of  hav- 
ing conspired  against  the  life  of  his  father,  by  whom  he  was 
imprisoned  for  years,  and  some  believe  finally  put  to  death. 
Such  are  the  tragedies  which  may  be  hidden  within  palace 
walls.  Other  histories  there  may  have  been  less  tragic, 
but  hardly  less  pathetic,  as  where  some  princess,  under 
royal  disfavor  (for  no  place  in  the  world  is  more  full  of 
heart-burnings,  of  pride,  envy,  and  all  un  charitableness, 


DON  JOHN  OF  AUSTRIA.  183 

than  a  Court),  withered  like  a  flower,  till  at  last  she  was 
glad  to  hide  her  sorrow  in  the  silence  of  the  grave. 

There  was  something  very  touching  in  the  frequent 
quoting  of  passages  of  Scripture.  Each  sarcophagus  is 
inscribed  with  some  word  of  hope,  such  as  "  Blessed  are 
the  dead  that  die  in  the  Lord  " — a  consolation  as  precious 
to  those  of  higher  as  of  humbler  birth.  As  in  Gray's 
Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard, 

"  Many  a  holy  text  around  is  strewn 
That  teach  the  rustic  moralist  to  die," 

so  here  the  royal  as  well  as  the  rustic  moralist  is  "taught 
to  die  "  by  words  of  faith,  which  alone  can  support  king  or 
prince  or  peasant  in  a  dying  hour. 

While  many  of  these  illustrious  names  appear  in  one 
larger  Mortuary  Chapel,  there  are  smaller  chapels  for 
others,  more  or  less  near  kindred  to  royalty.  In  one  of 
these  is  a  warrior's  tomb,  which  bears  a  great  name — that 
of  Don  John  of  Austria,  the  illegitimate  son  of  Charles  the 
Fifth,  who,  if  not  reckoned  among  hereditary  princes,  was 
greater  than  them  all,  as  he  was  the  hero  of  Lepanto,  the 
victory  which  destroyed  the  Turkish  fleet  in  the  Mediter- 
ranean, and  proved  a  fatal  blow  to  the  Moslem  power. 

As  we  thus  pass  slowly  from  tomb  to  tomb,  our  interest 
is  wound  up  to  a  pitch  that  prepares  us  for  a  further 
descent  into  the  earth.  We  are  apprised  that  we  are 
about  to  enter  a  still  more  imposing  burial-place,  by  the 
richly-colored  marbles  and  the  long  flight  of  steps  lined 
with  walls  of  jasper,  by  which  we  go  down  to  the  silent 
chamber  in  which  none  but  kings  and  queens  repose. 
This  is  the  Pantheon,  the  first  glance  at  which  shows  us 
that  it  has  been  modelled  after  the  Chapel  of  the  Medici 
in  Florence.  It  is  much  smaller,  being  only  thirty-six 
feet  in  diameter  by  thirty-eight  feet  high  ;  but  the  plan  is 
the  same — that  of  an  octagon — and  both  have  the  same 


184  CHARLES  THE  FIFTH. 

style  of  decoration  in  the  dark,  polished  marbles,  which 
give  them  a  kind  of  solemn  splendor. 

Of  the  eight  sides,  one  is  taken  up  by  the  heavy  door, 
and  the  one  opposite  by  an  altar,  which  divides  the  kings 
from  the  queens,  the  former  being  on  the  right,  and  the 
latter  on  the  left.  All  the  dead  are  encased  in  coffins  of 
black  marble,  placed  one  above  another,  like  the  bodies  in 
the  Catacombs.  This  treatment  of  the  royal  dead  seems 
hardly  in  accord  with  their  dignity.  Think  of  the  great 
Emperor  Charles  the  Fifth  being  laid  on  a  shelf!  Yet 
so  it  is.  But  for  all  that,  one  cannot  repress  a  feeling  akin 
to  awe  at  sight  of  the  black  sarcophagus  in  which  they 
keep  his  bones.  It  lies  at  the  top,  so  that  standing  on  the 
pavement,  we  look  up  to  it ;  and  how  can  we  help  thinking 
of  the  exalted  station  of  him  who  lies  there  ;  of  all  he  was 
and  did  ;  of  the  battles  he  fought  and  the  victories  he  won  : 
how  he  captured  the  King  of  France  at  the  Battle  of  Pavia, 
and  brought  him  a  prisoner  to  Madrid?  Nor  could  a 
Protestant  forget  that  this  is  the  man  before  whom  Luther 
stood  at  the  Diet  of  Worms,  and  made  the  immortal 
defence,  whose  last  words  still  ring  in  the  hearts  of  Ger- 
many and  of  the  Protestant  world  :  "  Here  I  take  my 
stand :  I  cannot  do  otherwise.  God  help  me !  "  Those 
two  men — Charles  and  Luther — were  the  two  great  figures 
of  the  sixteenth  century.  At  Worms  they  met  and  parted, 
and  never  met  again.  Luther  was  delivered  out  of  the 
jaws  of  the  lion,  and  Charles  was  enraged  that  he  had  let 
him  escape,  and  to  the  last  day  of  his  life  did  not  cease  to 
regret  that  he  had  not  burned  the  man  he  had  promised 
to  protect !  The  sacredness  of  a  royal  oath  was  nothing 
to  the  service  he  might  thus  have  rendered  to  the  Church. 
And  now  as  history  passes  judgment  on  the  two  men  who 
on  that  day  stood  face  to  face,  it  places  the  intrepid  Monk 
far  above  the  treacherous  King. 


THE  BURIAL  OF  ALFONSO.          185 

Under  Charles  the  Fifth  rests  the  body  of  his  son, 
Philip  the  Second,  followed  in  order  by  Philip  the  Third 
and  Philip  the  Fourth,  after  which  come  the  Charleses. 

At  the  head  of  another  tier  of  kings  lies  Ferdinand 
VLT.,  beneath  whom  is  an  empty  sarcophagus  for  his 
daughter,  Isabella  the  Second,  waiting  till  she  departs 
out  of  this  life,  when  it  will  be  opened  to  receive  her. 
According  to  the  Spanish  order  of  dignity,  even  sex  is  dis- 
regarded in  the  assignments  to  these  royal  tombs.  Thus 
Isabella,  when  she  comes  to  be  gathered  to  her  fathers, 
will  be  placed  among  the  kings,  while  her  husband,  Don 
Francisco  de  Assisi,  who  is  only  a  king-consort,  will  be 
placed  among  queens ! 

Below  the  niche  reserved  for  Isabella,  is  that  in  which 
already  lies  the  body  of  her  son,  the  late  King  Alfonso. 
It  must  have  been  an  impressive  scene  when  this  young 
prince  was  borne  to  his  rest.  He  was  buried  with  a  con- 
formity to  ancient  usage  which  could  have  had  no  parallel 
anywhere  else  in  the  world,  and  the  very  story  of  which 
(as  told  me  by  one  who  knows  all  the  actors  in  the  august 
ceremonial)  recalls  the  pomp  and  state  of  the  Middle  Ages. 
According  to  the  old  Spanish  custom,  the  death  of  a  king 
is  not  recognized  till  certain  formalities  have  been  ob- 
served. He  may  be  lying  in  his  coffin,  but  he  is  a  mon- 
arch still,  and  must  be  approached  with  the  reverence  due 
to  majesty.  All  these  forms  of  respect  were  punctiliously 
observed  while  the  body  of  Alfonso  was  lying  in  state 
in  the  Palace,  and  when  it  was  removed  to  the  Escorial. 
Here  the  procession  is  formed  at  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
and  moves  slowly  upward  to  the  Monastery,  where  the 
funeral  car  stops  before  the  principal  door.  But  the  door 
is  shut,  and  even  the  King  cannot  enter  unannounced. 
A  spiritual  warder  stands  at  the  gates  of  the  tomb,  and 
a  voice  from  within  cries,  "Who  would  enter  here?" 


183  THE  BURIAL  OF  ALFONSO. 

"Alfonso  XII.,"  is  the  reply,  at  which  the  door  is  thrown 
open,  and  the  funeral  cortege  (which  includes  all  that  is 
most  illustrious  in  birth  or  rank  in  Spain)  enters  within  the 
consecrated  walls.  Here  it  pauses  on  the  pavement,  while 
only  three — the  Prior  of  the  Monastery,  the  Chamberlain 
of  the  Palace,  and  the  Minister  of  Grace  and  Justice — 
descend  the  long  flight  of  steps  to  the  Pantheon  below, 
where  the  King  is  laid  on  a  table,  surrounded  by  the  silent 
forms  of  the  royal  dead.  He  is  not  dead,  at  least  not  offi- 
cially dead,  and  cannot  be  till,  as  one  may  say,  he  gives 
his  own  royal  assent.  And  so,  when  the  bearers  have  laid 
him  down  and  retired,  and  all  is  hushed  and  still,  the  Lord 
Chamberlain  lifts  the  heavy  cloth  of  gold,  unlocks  the 
coffin  and  raises  the  glass,  and  looks  once  more  upon  the 
face  of  his  late  master.  Perhaps  the  King  will  recognize 
this  last  act  of  devotion.  So  at  least  his  servant  would 
seem  to  think  a  possibility,  since,  kneeling  down,  he  cries 
three  times  in  the  ear  that  is  still  open,  though  the  eye  be 
closed,  "  Senor !  Senor !  Senor ! "  and  waits  for  a  few  mo- 
ments ;  peradventure  he  may  receive  at  least  some  faint 
and  whispered  reply ;  but  hearing  none,  he  rises  to  his 
feet,  and  exclaims,  as  if  with  wonder  and  surprise,  "His 
Majesty  does  not  answer!  Then  indeed  the  King  is 
dead ! "  and  locking  again  the  coffin,  he  hands  the  keys 
to  the  Prior,  and  taking  in  his  hand  the  wand  of  office, 
breaks  it  over  the  silent  dust,  as  a  token  of  a  power  that 
has  ceased  to  be  ;  and  then  they  slowly  ascend  the  marble 
steps,  having  laid  another  Spanish  monarch  in  the  burial- 
place  of  kings. 

All  this  is  very  impressive,  and  yet,  apart  from  such 
occasional  ceremonials,  the  Pantheon  is  a  dreary  place  in 
which  to  sleep  one's  last  sleep.  It  is  far  under  ground, 
where  not  a  ray  of  light  ever  penetrates.  The  very 
thought  of  this  utter  darkness  fills  one  with  creeping 


THE  PANTHEON  FAR  UNDER  GROUND.     187 

horror.  De  Amicis  says  that  when  he  visited  the  Pan- 
theon, the  guide  tried  his  nerves  by  extinguishing  the 
light,  so  that  he  was  left  in  total  darkness.  The  feeling 
that  he  had  at  that  moment  I  can  understand,  for  I  once 
had  the  same,  on  that  memorable  midnight  when  I  found 
myself  in  the  heart  of  the  Great  Pyramid.  It  was  as  if  I 
were  entombed,  buried  alive  in  a  mountain  of  rock,  from 
which  I  should  nevermore  come  forth  to  see  the  light  of 
day  and  breathe  the  air  of  heaven. 

I  do  not  wonder  that  the  gentle  Mercedes  shuddered 
at  the  thought  of  a  resting-place  so  dark  and  cold,  and 
begged  them  not  to  lay  her  here.  Poor  young  thing! 
She  loved  the  sunshine,  and  so  they  laid  her  in  a  chapel 
of  the  church  above,  where  the  light  streaming  through 
the  windows  would  rest  upon  her  tomb,  and  friends  could 
come  and  cover  it  with  flowers. 

No  doubt  the  selection  of  the  place  for  the  Pantheon 
was  determined  by  religious  considerations,  for  it  is  right 
under  the  high  altar  in  the  church,  which  must  have  been 
from  a  feeling,  not  less  real  because  vague  and  dim,  that 
as  the  daily  sacrifice  was  offered  for  the  quick  and  dead, 
some  blessing  might  descend  on  their  sleeping  dust  and 
their  departed  souls. 

But  if  the  Pantheon  be  not  the  chamber  where  we 
would  sleep,  it  is  a  place  where  we  may  learn  some  useful 
lessons  for  the  life  that  remains  to  us  on  the  earth.  We 
have  been  among  dead  men's  bones,  and  we  find  them  to 
be  none  the  less  dead  because  they  are  the  bones  of  kings. 
Death  is  a  mighty  disenchanter,  and  few  are  the  names 
which  do  not  lose  when  they  who  bore  them  are  no  longer 
among  the  living.  In  the  Museum  at  Madrid  is  a  painting 
of  Charles  the  Fifth  on  horseback,  clad  in  full  armor,  as  he 
rode  before  his  army  at  the  battle  of  Muhlberg.  On  the 
field  he  looked  every  inch  a  king.  But  how  appears  he 


188  THE  "GLORIA"  OF  TITIAN. 

now?  A  few  years  since,  when  the  Emperor  of  Brazil 
visited  the  Escorial,  the  coffin  was  opened  and  the  face 
uncovered.  They  even  permitted  photographs  to  be  taken, 
which  are  sold  to-day  in  the  shops  of  Madrid.  It  is  a 
ghastly  figure.  The  lower  jaw  has  fallen  down,  so  that  the 
mouth  is  wide  open,  like  that  of  an  idiot.  And  this  is  all 
that  is  left  of  that  Imperial  countenance  "  whose  bend  did 
awe  the  world  "  I 

But  it  is  not  the  common  lot  of  mortality  that  is  to  be 
cast  up  in  the  face  of  a  dead  king.  What  was  his  life  ? 
What  use  did  he  make  of  his  power?  Was  he  a  bene- 
factor of  his  race  ?  Spanish  historians  may  count  it 
enough  that  he  was  a  Catholic  King  to  make  him  both 
great  and  good.  So  he  judged  himself,  and  as  such  fondly 
believed  that  he  was  a  special  object  of  Divine  regard. 
In  the  Museum  at  Madrid  is  a  large  canvas  on  which  the 
most  distinguished  painter  of  his  age  has  made  an  apothe- 
osis of  this  pair  of  kings,  Charles  and  Philip,  represent- 
ing them  on  their  knees,  in  the  attitude  of  prayer,  encom- 
passed by  angels,  who  are  bearing  them  up  to  heaven  into 
the  presence  of  the  Father  and  the  Son  (the  Spirit  is  indi- 
cated by  a  dove  hovering  between  them),  who  bend  from 
above  to  welcome  them  to  "everlasting  joy  and  felicity." 
Could  anything  be  imagined  more  illustrative  of  the  colos- 
sal pride  of  this  Emperor,  who  had  so  long  been  looked  up 
to  as  a  god  by  his  fellow-mortals,  that  he  really  thought 
the  heavens  would  bow  to  receive  his  proud  and  selfish 
soul.  This  elaborate  painting  (the  very  idea  of  which  is 
so  absurd  that  nothing  but  the  genius  of  Titian  saves  it 
from  being  ridiculous)  was  the  favorite  picture  of  Charles 
the  Fifth,  who  kept  it  always  before  his  eye  at  Yuste,  and 
left  a  special  command  that  it  should  be  hung  over  his 
grave,  as  it  was  for  many  years  until  his  body  was  removed 
to  the  Escoriai 


FACING  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  DEAD.  189 

And  yet  this  man  who  saw  himself  ascending  to  heaven 
in  the  company  of  angels,  might  rather  have  looked  to 
meeting  the  army  of  the  dead  whom  he  had  sent  to 
untimely  graves.  He  had  spent  his  life  in  wars  ;  he  had 
shed  rivers  of  blood,  and  might  well  have  feared  to  meet 
those  whom  he  had  sent  into  the  eternal  world  before  him. 
It  is  thus  that  the  old  Hebrew  prophet  pictures  an  ancient 
destroyer  of  his  race  descending  into  the  shades  :  "  Hell 
from  beneath  is  moved  for  thee  to  meet  thee  at  thy 
coming :  it  stirreth  up  the  dead  for  thee."  ..."  They 
that  see  thee  shall  narrowly  look  upon  thee  and  consider 
thee,  saying,  Is  this  the  man  that  made  the  earth  to  trem- 
ble ;  that  did  shake  kingdoms ;  that  made  the  world  as  a 
wilderness,  and  destroyed  cities ;  that  opened  not  the 
house  of  his  prisoners  ?  " 

Every  word  of  this  were  as  fitly  addressed  to  Charles 
the  Fifth  as  to  the  King  of  Babylon.  He  too  might  be 
arrayed  before  a  tribunal  of  the  dead,  of  the  patriots 
whom  he  sent  to  the  scaffold,  and  the  martyrs  whom  he 
burned  at  the  stake.  And  if  all  the  unburied  slain  whose 
bones  he  scattered  on  the  battle-fields  of  Europe,  were  to 
rise  up  like  a  cloud  in  the  air,  he  would  not  indeed  find 
himself  alone  in  the  other  world  ;  but  instead  of  being 
attended  by  the  angelic  host,  would  be  followed  by  a  very 
different  host,  that  would  drag  him  down  to  the  Eternal 
Darkness. 

When  we  had  left  the  Pantheon,  and  come  up  to  the 
light  of  day,  there  was  yet  time  to  get  one  more  look  at 
the  Escorial  from  a  distance  ;  and  taking  a  carriage,  we 
drove  out  to  the  seat  of  Philip  the  Second  on  the  moun- 
tain side.  The  grounds  in  the  rear  of  the  Palace  are  not 
unpleasant :  for  here  the  trees,  sheltered  from  the  winds, 
have  grown  so  as  to  form  a  grove,  which  is  a  favorite 
resort  for  excursion  parties  from  Madrid  in  the  heat  of 


190  LAST  LOOK  FROM  THE  KING'S  SEAT. 

Summer,  where  they  can  spend  a  day  in  the  delightful 
shade.  But  as  we  pass  beyond,  the  mountain  becomes 
more  rugged.  Climbing  up  the  boulder,  I  took  my  seat 
in  the  very  niche  in  the  rock  hewn  out  for  the  King,  and 
looked  round  on  the  same  scene  on  which  he  had  looked  a 
thousand  times.  It  was  a  raw  wintry  day.  The  mountains 
were  covered  with  snow.  Yet  bleak  and  bare  and  cold  as 
was  the  landscape,  it  was  but  a  faint  image  of  the  desola- 
tion caused  by  that  wicked  reign.  Nature  can  work  no 
such  ruin  as  may  be  wrought  by  the  pride  and  self-will  of 
man  when  clothed  with  absolute  power.  Such  is  the  lesson 
of  the  Escorial,  which  has  stood  among  these  mountains 
for  three  hundred  years,  and  may  stand  till  the  globe 
itself  shall  melt.  Let  it  stand  as  a  lesson  and  a  warning — 
a  colossal  monument  of  the  ages  of  tyranny  and  bigotry, 
which,  we  trust,  have  passed  away  forever  from  the  earth. 


CHAPTEE  XIH. 
THE   CITY   OF  TOLEDO. 

When  we  exchange  Madrid  for  Toledo,  we  come  to  a 
city  which  was  once  the  capital  of  Spain,  but  which  is  in 
every  respect  a  contrast  to  the  capital  we  have  left  behind. 
In  three  hours  we  have  passed  from  New  Spain  to  Old 
Spain.  Madrid  is  a  new  city,  not  indeed  in  the  American 
sense — not  new  as  Chicago  is  new,  for  it  is  more  than 
three  hundred  years  old — but  new  as  compared  with  cities 
that  date  from  the  time  of  the  Romans. 

In  one  respect  the  approach  to  Toledo  is  not  unlike 
that  to  Borne,  for  it  is  along  the  course  of  a  rapid  river 
that,  when  swollen  by  rains  (at  other  times  it  is  said  that 
its  color  is  a  beautiful  deep  green),  might  be  called  the 
Yellow  Tagus,  for  the  same  reason  that  the  Romans  spoke 
of  the  Yellow  Tiber,  this  being  colored  by  the  soil  which  it 
brings  from  the  Spanish  mountains,  as  the  Tiber  brings 
the  same  from  the  Apennines.  But  here  the  relation  of 
the  river  to  the  city  is  much  more  close,  for  while  the 
Tiber  flows  through  Home,  dividing  it  in  twain,  the  Tagus 
puts  its  arms  around  Toledo  as  in  a  loving  embrace. 

Nothing  ean  be  more  striking  than  the  first  view  of 
Toledo  from  a  distance.  It  is  at  once  "  a  city  set  on  a  hill " 


192  A  CITY  SET  ON  A  HILL. 

and  "  founded  on  a  rock,"  the  hill  being  a  mass  of  gran- 
ite that  rises  proudly  above  the  river  and  the  plain,  the 
effect  of  which  is  greatly  increased  by  its  being  crested 
with  a  long,  line  of  battlements.  It  is  very  grand,  but  per- 
haps some  practical  American,  straining  both  eyes  and 
neck  to  look  up  to  the  height  which  he  is  to  climb,  might 
ask  "  What  did  they  put  a  town  up  there  for,  when  they 
had  all  this  '  river  bottom '  to  build  on,  with  its  '  fine  water 
privileges '  ?  "  This  is  a  very  sensible  question  :  how  sensi- 
ble the  Romans  proved  by  the  fact  that  they  did  build,  not 
on  the  height,  but  on  the  plain.  The  city  on  a  hill  was 
founded  not  by  the  Romans,  but  by  their  successors,  the 
Goths  ;  and  why  they  built  there,  might  be  answered  in 
changing  slightly  the  observation  of  a  French  officer  on 
the  famous  charge  at  Balaklava  :  "  It  is  magnificent,  but  it 
is  not  war ! "  Here  we  should  say  "  It  is  magnificent,  and 
it  is  war."  That  is  what  the  site  was  chosen  for  :  because 
its  "  munition  of  rocks  "  made  it  a  natural  fortress.  The 
Romans  built  in  the  plain,  because  their  legions  were 
strong  enough  to  defend  a  city  that  was  not  fortified.  But 
the  Goths  came  from  the  North,  where  Feudal  chiefs,  who 
were  little  better  than  robbers,  were  wont  to  immure  them- 
selves behind  thick  walls,  from  which  to  sally  out  and 
attack  cities ;  and  so  they  built  castles  in  Spain,  as  they 
had  built  them  on  the  Danube  and  the  Rhine. 

But  leaving  the  question  of  position  till  we  are  inside 
the  walls,  we  set  our  faces  towards  the  castellated  city. 
At  the  very  first  step  we  are  on  the  track  of  the  Romans, 
for  the  bridge  by  which  we  cross  the  Tagus,  though  not 
built  by  Roman  hands  (for  it  has  been  rebuilt  several 
times  since  their  day),  still  stands  on  the  very  spot  which 
.they  chose  for  it,  resting  on  the  same  cliffs,  and  spanning, 
with  the  same  Roman  arches,  the  same  deep  gorge,  and 
the  same  rushing  river.  From  the  further  bank  commences 


LIKE  JERUSALEM  IX  POSITION.  193 

the  ascent,  and  here  one's  blood  stirs  more  quickly  as  he 
mounts  the  winding  road  and  looks  over  the  parapet  to  the 
wide  landscape,  made  up  of  plain  and  mountain  and  river. 

A  lady  of  Madrid  who  accompanied  Dean  Stanley  to 
Toledo,  tells  me  that  he  was  struck  with  its  resemblance 
in  position  to  Jerusalem,  each  being  on  a  high  plateau, 
and  cut  off  by  deep  gorges  from  the  surrounding  country. 
Toledo,  however,  presents  a  much  bolder  front  than  Jeru- 
salem, when  the  latter  is  approached  (as  it  is  by  most 
travellers)  by  the  Jaffa  gate,  though  the  holy  city  regains 
in  majesty  when  the  pilgrim  comes  up  from  the  valley  of 
the  Jordan,  and  gets  his  first  view  from  the  Mount  of 
Olives.  We  had  hardly  reached  the  upper  level  of  Toledo, 
when  we  came  to  a  stand,  for  we  found  ourselves  in  streets 
so  intricate  and  aimless  that  we  had  to  take  a  guide,  who 
led  us  through  a  succession  of  narrow  passages,  and  even 
across  the  floor  of  the  Cathedral,  as  a  short  cut  to  a  place 
of  meeting  with  Mr.  Stroebel,  who,  kind  as  he  always  is, 
had  gone  down  to  Toledo  the  night  before  to  be  on  hand 
to  show  us  the  city.  We  found  him  at  the  pension  of  the 
sisters  Figuerroa,  two  Spanish  ladies,  who  have  lived  in 
the  same  house  forty  years,  rarely,  if  ever,  venturing  so  far 
away  as  Madrid  ;  and  here,  screened  behind  a  trellis  cov- 
ered with  vines,  and  a  little  garden  of  orange  trees,  we 
took  our  twelve  o'clock  breakfast,  and  then,  submitting 
gratefully  to  the  guidance  of  our  most  intelligent  as  well 
as  enthusiastic  conductor,  sallied  out  to  see  Toledo. 

Our  commander,  with  the  practiced  eye  that  knows 
how  to  take  things  in  their  proper  order,  led  us  first  of  all 
to  the  highest  point  of  the  city,  the  Mount  Zion  of  this 
Jerusalem,  which  commands  the  most  complete  survey,  not 
only  of  what  is  within  the  walls,  but  of  the  country  round. 
On  this  height  stands  the  Alcazar,  which  has  done  double 
duty,  as  Palace  and  Fortress,  from  the  old  Moorish  times. 


194  THE  ALCAZAR. 

Enlarged  by  Charles  the  Fifth  and  Philip  the  Second,  it 
was  occupied  by  both  before  the  capital  was  removed  to 
Madrid.  But  it  has  had  a  hard  fate.  From  being  the 
palace  of  kings,  it  has  been  reduced  to  being  a  sort  of 
alms-house,  or  workshop  for  the  poor,  and  barracks  for 
soldiers  ;  and  has  been  twice  burnt  :  by  the  Dutch  in  the 
War  of  the  Succession  at  the  beginning  of  the  last  cen- 
tury ;  and  by  the  French  at  the  beginning  of  this.  After 
such  vicissitudes  of  fortune  it  lay  waste  for  years,  but  at 
last  seemed  to  have  found  its  proper  office,  when  the  rub- 
bish was  cleared  away,  and  it  was  converted  into  a  Mili- 
tary Academy,  the  West  Point  of  Spain,  where  six  hun- 
dred cadets  were  in  training  to  become  officers  in  the 
Spanish  army.  Such  it  was  the  day  we  saw  it.  But  ill 
fortune  seems  to  pursue  it  still,  for  in  three  weeks  after 
our  visit  it  was  burned  again  !  This  is  discouraging,  but 
as  the  walls  are  of  great  strength,  it  may  once  more  rise 
from  its  ashes  [it  is  already  being  rebuilt]  ;  but  if  it  were 
in  ruins,  one  thing  fire  cannot  destroy  :  the  magnificent 
view  for  which,  if  for  nothing  else,  a  traveller  will  always 
wish  to  stand  here  and  take  a  sweep  round  the  horizon. 

Descending  from  the  Alcazar,  we  pass  out  of  one  of  the 
city  gates,  across  the  beautiful  Alameda — the  resort  of  the 
people  of  Toledo  on  Summer  nights — to  a  great  Hospital 
founded  by  a  Cardinal  who  was  the  Primate  here  three 
hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  and  who  has  left  something 
better  than  the  memory  of  his  ecclesiastical  dignities,  in 
this  noble  monument  of  his  beneficence. 

Eeturning  along  the  hill,  we  move  with  slow  steps,  for 
the  view  is  too  enchanting  to  be  passed  in  haste.  Here 
let  us  sit  on  these  stones,  that  have  fallen  from  some  old 
ruin,  and  feast  our  eyes  on  the  scene  below !  Yonder  the 
yellow  Tagus  winds  through  the  plain.  There  on  its 
banks  the  old  Roman  city  stood.  You  can  see  the  outline 


THE  CONVENT  OF  SAN  JUAN.  195 

of  the  ancient  amphitheatre.  If  the  gladiators  who  fought 
in  it  were  to  come  to  life  again,  and  wished  to  prepare  for 
the  combat,  they  would  not  have  far  to  go  to  provide 
themselves  with  weapons,  for  only  a  mile  away  stands  the 
arsenal  for  making  the  famous  Toledo  blades.  But  to 
return  to  where  we  are,  this  brow  of  the  hill  was  once 
lined  with  palaces  and  convents,  all  of  which  have  disap- 
peared ;  and  it  seems  as  if  it  were  in  mockery  of  departed 
greatness,  that  now  the  only  building  of  large  proportions 
which  is  fully  occupied,  is  a  Lunatic  Asylum,  whose 
inmates,  screaming  from  their  barred  windows,  might  be 
the  infuriated  ghosts  of  once  proud  Toledons,  wildly 
lamenting  over  the  loss  of  what  is  gone  forever ! 

Turning  from  this  to  within  the  city,  we  come  to  the 
great  Franciscan  Convent  of  San  Juan  de  los  Reyes,  built 
by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  to  commemorate  a  victory,  the 
outer  wall  of  which  is  "decorated"  with  the  chains  of 
Christian  captives,  which  were  struck  from  the  limbs  of 
those  who  had  been  taken  by  the  Barbary  pirates  and 
held  as  slaves,  and  were  liberated  by  Charles  V.  when  he 
conquered  Tunis.  One  cannot  repress  a  thrill  at  the  sight 
of  these  rusted  manacles  of  prisoners  and  captives,  but 
the  satisfaction  is  marred  by  one  regret,  that  rulers  who 
knew  by  the  experience  of  their  kindred  in  the  faith  how 
bitter  was  such  captivity,  had  not  learned  the  virtue  of 
toleration  :  but  truth  compels  the  admission  that  the 
Moors,  oppressors  as  they  may  have  been  in  Africa,  were 
in  Spain  more  tolerant  than  the  Catholic  kings. 

Convents-  are  ;not  ordinarily  inviting  to  a  stranger,  but 
this  has  one  great  attraction  in  its  Cloisters.  If  complete 
retirement  from  the  world,  even  to  not  looking  on  the 
face  of  nature,  could  be  made  tolerable,  it  would  be  in  a 
retreat  like  this — a  place  of  silence,  broken  only  by  the 
murmuring  fountain  or  the  voice  of  prayer,  but  in  which, 


196  THE  CLOISTERS. 

as  the  solitary  monk  walked  up  and  down  these  "  cool, 
sequestered  shades,"  he  had  before  his  eye  columns  carved 
in  the  most  graceful  forms,  wreathed  and  festooned  with 
vines  and  flowers  :  what  is  most  beautiful  in  nature  being 
reproduced  in  what  is  most  exquisite  in  art.  I  do  not 
quite  understand  how  this  luxuriant  decoration  should  be 
suited  to  the  severe  life  of  monks,  who  have  vowed  a  re- 
nunciation which,  carried  to  its  utmost  limit,  would  seem 
to  require  that  they  should  sternly  refuse  "  the  delight  of 
the  eyes"  as  well  as  "the  pride  of  life."  But  it  is  not  ours 
to  discuss  the  philosophy  of  these  things :  it  is  enough 
that  the  beauty  is  here,  carved  in  stone  ;  and  that  (as  it  is 
now  being  restored  at  infinite  labor,  but  with  perfect  taste) 
it  is  likely  to  remain  to  be  the  delight  of  many  generations. 
With  the  great  number  of  churches  that  Toledo  has 
to  show,  it  is  a  diversion  to  be  introduced  to  a  couple  of 
synagogues,  which  remind  us  that  this  was  long  a  favorite 
city  of  the  Jews.  Indeed  they  had  a  tradition  that  it  was 
founded  by  captives  returning  from  Babylon.  But  no 
sacred  associations  could  protect  them  from  persecution. 
A  Jew  seemed  lawful  prey,  whom  it  was  doing  God  service 
to  despoil,  if  not  to  destroy.  One  of  this  unhappy  race 
was  the  treasurer  of  Peter  the  Cruel,  whom  he  served 
faithfully,  but  as  he  was  thrifty  and  prospered  himself, 
his  royal  master  thought  it  the  readiest  way  to  dispose  of 
him  to  torture  poor  Levi  till  he  surrendered  all  his  worldly 
goods,  and  then  to  kill  him  to  make  an  end  of  the  busi- 
ness. Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  not  content  with  expelling 
the  Moors,  next  turned  against  the  Jews,  issuing  an  edict 
that  no  one  of  that  ancient  people  who  was  unbaptized, 
should  be  permitted  to  live  in  Spain — a  decree  as  foolish 
as  it  was  cruel,  as  it  offered  a  premium  to  hypocrisy,  since 
those  who  had  no  conscience  would  not  scruple  at  baptism 
or  any  other  test,  while  the  hoary  Israelites,  who  clung  to 


EXPULSION  OF  THE  JEWS.  197 

the  faith  of  their  fathers,  were  driven  out  without  mercy. 
By  this  expulsion  Spain  lost  170,000  of  its  best  population, 
who  carried  with  them  a  large  part  of  the  industry  and 
wealth  of  the  kingdom.  This  banishment  bore  with  espe- 
cial severity  on  Toledo  :  for  the  Jews  were  among  its  rich- 
est inhabitants,  and  many  historians  date  from  this  suicidal 
decree  the  beginning  of  its  decline.  Sad  indeed  was  the 
fate  of  this  persecuted  race.  As  they  went  forth  from  the 
gates  of  the  city  which  they  believed  had  been  founded  by 
their  ancestors,  they  must  have  felt  that  the  time  of  their 
captivity  had  come  again,  and  that  they  had  once  more,  as 
an  outcast  people,  to  hang  their  harps  upon  the  willows, 
since  they  were  again  to  know  the  bitterness  of  exile. 

In  this  rapid  walk  around  Toledo,  we  have  reserved  to 
the  last  its  greatest  sight,  the  Cathedral,  which  is  the  spe- 
cial admiration  of  Castelar,  as  the  most  perfect  specimen 
of  ecclesiastical  architecture.  I  once  asked  him  if  he  did 
not  think  it  the  most  beautiful  in  Spain,  to  which  he  in- 
stantly replied,  "  It  is  the  most  beautiful  in  the  world  !  "  at 
the  same  time  throwing  up  his  hands  and  raising  his  eyes, 
as  if  he  were  at  that  moment  looking  up  into  its  soaring 
arches,  and  listening  to  strains  of  unearthly  music  ;  and 
then  he  went  off  into  one  of  those  rhapsodies  in  which  he 
is  wont  to  indulge,  in  which  whatever  he  loves  or  admires 
is  glorified  with  all  the  splendor  of  his  imagination. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  what  is  so  truly  grand,  cannot 
be  seen  in  its  full  majesty  from  without.  But  the  Cathe- 
dral has  no  distance  to  give  it  proper  effect.  It  is  so  shut 
in  by  the  narrow  streets,  that  one  can  have  little  idea  of  its 
greatness,  even  when  under  its  very  walls. 

But  we  lift  the  leathern  curtain  and  step  within  the 
door,  and  all  criticism  is  hushed  in  such  a  presence.  As 
we  entered,  it  was  the  hour  of  vespers,  which  we  would 
not  disturb  by  walking  about,  and  so  we  stood  for  some 


198  THE  MOZARABIC  KITE. 

minutes,  and  then  stole  softly  across  the  pavement  to  a 
chapel  in  a  corner,  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  Cathe- 
dral, to  listen  to  another  service,  which  has  a  history  that 
dates  back  not  only  to  the  time  of  the  Moors,  but  of  the 
Goths,  who  had  established  themselves  in  Toledo  before 
the  Moors  had  crossed  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar.  Here 
they  celebrated  Christian  worship  according  to  an  ancient 
ritual  which  has  been  described  as  "  the  connecting  link 
between  the  rites  of  the  Eastern  [or  Greek]  and  Western 
[or  Roman]  Church."  When  at  last  they  were  overpow- 
ered by  the  Moorish  invaders,  one  of  the  conditions  of 
surrender  was  that  they  should  have  full  liberty  of 
worship  according  to  their  faith.  The  ritual  thus  retain- 
ed under  Moslem  protection,  was  called  the  Mozarabic 
rite.  The  pledge  of  the  conquerors  was  faithfully  kept, 
so  that  for  three  hundred  and  fifty  years  Toledo  witnessed 
the  strange  spectacle  of  churches  standing  side  by  side 
with  mosques,  and  Christian  worship  celebrated  within 
sound  of  the  voice  of  the  muezzin  from  the  minarets 
calling  the  faithful  to  prayer.  But  when  Toledo  was 
reconquered,  the  new  masters  were  less  tolerant  than 
their  predecessors,  and  demanded  that  the  churches 
should  give  up  their  ancient  ritual,  and  adopt  a  later 
one  that  had  been  duly  "revised  and  improved"  by 
Eome.  The  Toledons  refused,  and  the  dispute  waxed  so 
warm,  that  the  parties  actually  attempted  to  decide  it  by 
personal  combat  between  two  champions  chosen  for  the 
purpose,  and  again  by  the  "  trial  by  fire,"  with  the  usual 
result  that  the  party  which  lost  found  some  excuse  for 
refusing  to  abide  by  the  result ;  and  so  the  controversy 
might  have  remained  unsettled,  had  not  Cardinal  Ximenes 
afterwards  taken  hold  of  it  with  his  strong  hand,  and 
decided  (perhaps  not  unwilling  to  show  his  independence 
of  Rome,  for  Spanish  kings  and  cardinals  sometimes 


THE  CATHEDRAL.  199 

snubbed  the  Pope  himself)  that  the  churches  of  Toledo 
should  have  the  right  to  worship  God  according  to  the 
way  of  their  fathers,  and  even  left  an  endowment  for  the 
perpetual  celebration  of  their  cherished  ritual.  It  was 
this  to  which  we  were  now  to  listen.  As  we  entered  the 
chapel,  a  number  of  priests  (perhaps  a  dozen)  were  chant- 
ing it  with  voices  loud  and  lusty,  that  showed  that  they 
were  not  to  be  silenced.  It  was  a  sight  to  encourage  the 
hope  gf  Spanish  independence  in  things  temporal  as  well 
as  ecclesiastical. 

But  we  must  return  to  the  Cathedral,  where  the 
vespers  are  still  in  progress.  Unwilling  to  disturb  them 
by  movement  or  even  by  whispers,  we  sat  down  on  the 
projecting  base  of  a  column,  that  we  might  at  once  see 
and  listen.  Looking  round,  we  took  in  the  grand  propor- 
tions of  the  interior,  of  which  mere  figures — such  as  that 
it  is  four  hundred  feet  long  and  two  hundred  feet  wide — 
can  give  little  idea.  But  take  a  single  object.  This 
column  at  the  foot  of  which  I  am  sitting,  seems  to  me 
like  one  of  the  Big  Trees  of  California,  and  yet  it  is  not 
ungraceful,  for  this  enormous  girth  is  balanced  by  a  corre- 
sponding height.  In  the  loftiness  of  the  Cathedral,  it 
seems  as  if  its  builders  had  designed,  if  it  must  be  shut 
in  on  the  ground,  that  it  should  at  least  find  space 
in  the  air ;  and  so  they  carried  it  up  and  up  till  it  soared 
high  above  all  the  roofs  of  the  city,  and  caught  the  light 
from  every  quarter,  from  the  rising  and  the  setting  sun. 

Sitting  here  and  looking  up  and  around,  I  think  how 
many  human  lives  have  gone  into  the  rearing  of  this 
majestic  pile.  Begun  in  1227,  it  was  more  than  two  and 
a  half  centuries  in  building,  during  which  the  people  of 
Toledo,  and  of  all  Spain,  watched  its  rising  walls.  In  this 
time  men  were  born,  grew  old  and  died,  leaving  the  work 
to  their  children,  who  took  it  up  and  carried  it  on  all  their 


200  THE  CATHEDRAL. 

lives,  so  that  when  at  last  it  stood  complete,  it  was  the 
work,  not  of  one  man  or  of  one  age,  but  of  many  genera- 
tions. 

This  historical  association  affects  me  strongly  when  I 
enter  one  of  these  old  cathedrals,  and  especially  at  such  an 
hour  as  this,  when  the  beams  of  the  declining  sun  stream 
through  the  rich  stained-glass  windows,  filling  this  temple 
of  the  Most  High  with  a  light  which  seems  to  be  poured 
down  upon  it  from  the  Temple  above  ;  and  the  mighty 
anthems  rise  into  the  dim  arches,  and  then  sink  into 
silence  as  if  dying  away  upon  the  heavenly  shore. 

If  I  were  writing  a  book  on  Cathedrals,  I  should  give  a 
long  chapter  to  that  of  Toledo,  for  there  is  a  study  in  every 
one  of  its  twenty  chapels,  each  of  which  has  a  history  in 
its  altars,  its  pictures,  and  its  tombs,  for  (as  we  observed  at 
Burgos)  every  Spanish  cathedral  is  a  kind  of  Westminster 
Abbey.  "We  go  from  one  to  another,  and  then  come  back 
to  the  vast  interior,  with  its  five  grand  naves  and  eighty- 
four  columns,  only  to  find  the  first  impression  renewed 
and  increased.  It  comes  not  merely  from  its  size  (for  there 
are  other  cathedrals  as  large  and  larger),  but  from  the 
admirable  proportion  of  the  different  parts  ;  and  from  the 
elaborate  finish  which  is  carried  into  every  sculptured 
ornament,  and  every  detail  in  marble  or  in  bronze.  It  is 
this  combination  of  all  in  one  that  makes  the  consummate 
and  perfect  beauty  of  the  whole. 

As  we  come  out  of  the  Cathedral,  we  stand  face  to  face 
with  the  Palace  of  the  Archbishop,  for  in  Spain  Bishops 
are  Princes,  and  dwell  in  Palaces.  From  the  beginning 
of  its  history  Toledo  has  been  what  the  Hebrews  would 
have  called  "  a  city  of  the  Levites."  It  once  received  a 
vis*  (-,  from  the  Virgin  Mary  ( ! ),  whose  footprint  is  still 
sliown  on  a  marble  slab  in  the  Cathedral,  where  it  is  an 
object  of  pious  veneration.  Thus  honored  by  its  heavenly 


AX  ECCLESIASTICAL  CITY.  £01 

visitant,  Toledo  became  a  kind  of  holy  city,  a  place  of 
pilgrimage,  to  which  priests  flocked  in  great  numbers.  At 
one  time  it  had  over  a  hundred  churches,  and  half  as  many 
monasteries  and  convents.  Naturally  it  became  the  centre 
of  ecclesiastical  domination.  Its  Archbishop  was  the  Pri- 
mate of  the  realm,  a  position  of  the  greatest  dignity  and 
influence,  once  held  by  Cardinals  Ximenes  and  Mendoza, 
who  were  rulers  in  the  State  as  well  as  in  the  Church. 
Indeed  the  latter  was  called,  in  the  days  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella,  the  Third  King,  as  he  seemed  to  divide  power 
with  royalty  itself.  This  exalted  rank  the  Archbishop  of 
Toledo  still  retains.  He  is  to  this  day  the  Primate  of  all 
Spain  (while  Madrid,  until  within  a  year  or  two,  had  not 
so  much  as  a  bishop),  and  is  regarded,  at  least  by  Span- 
iards, as  second  only  to  the  Pope  in  the  Catholic  world. 

But  here  we  have  made  the  round  of  Toledo,  and  some 
of  my  readers  may  think  it  is  the  play  of  Hamlet  with  the 
part  of  Hamlet  left  out :  for  that  while  I  have  said  so  much 
of  churches  and  palaces — of  the  Cathedral  and  the  Alcazar 
—I  have  said  nothing  of  the  People.  The  reason  is  that 
Toledo  was  both  a  royal  and  an  ecclesiastical  city  ;  and 
that  between  them  royalty  and  the  Church  absorbed  so 
much  attention  as  to  hide  almost  all  else  from  view.  But 
for  all  that,  whoever  reads  Spanish  history  will  find  that 
there  was  a  People  of  Toledo,  that  had  a  life  of  their  own, 
and  a  very  heroic  and  determined  life,  that  sometimes 
gave  no  small  trouble  to  their  kingly  and  priestly  rulers. 

The  population  of  the  city  was  of  course  limited  by  its 
geography.  It  could  not  be  of  great  extent,  since  it  was 
built  on  a  small  plateau  upon  the  top  of  a  rock.  "With 
only  such  a  base  for  its  foundation,  and  a  large  part  of 
this  taken  up  by  palaces  and  churches  and  convents,  there 
were  but  small  quarters  for  those  who  formed  the  bulk  of 
the  population.  Hence  there  had  to  be  the  utmost  econo- 


202  FORMER  SPIRIT  OF  LIBERTY. 

my  of  room.  Toledo  was,  like  Jerusalem,  "  builded  as  a 
city  that  is  compact  together."  The  streets  were  for  the 
most  part  mere  lanes,  in  which  one  passing  on  foot  could 
touch  both  sides,  and  neighbors  could  shake  hands  out  of 
the  windows.  And  yet  in  this  narrow  space  was  one  of 
the  densest  and  busiest  populations  in  Europe,  for  into  it 
were  squeezed  no  less  than  two  hundred  thousand  inhabi- 
tants :  and  these  swarming  streets  were  so  many  hives  of 
busy  bees,  for  Toledo  was  the  most  thriving  city  of  Spain. 
Nor  were  these  merely  toiling  masses,  for  they  had 
a  spirit  of  independence,  which  they  inherited  from  their 
Gothic  ancestors.  Uniting  such  industry  and  wealth  with 
such  liberty,  Toledo  seemed  at  the  beginning  of  the 
sixteenth  century  to  be  not  altogether  unworthy  of  the 
proud  boast  of  John  of  Padilla,  that  it  was  "  the  crown  of 
Spain,  the  light  of  the  whole  world,  that  had  been  free 
from  the  time  of  the  mighty  Goths."  Alas,  that  its  free- 
dom and  its  glory  were  to  end  together.  Its  freedom 
died  with  him,  when  his  head  was  laid  on  the  block  by 
order  of  Charles  the  Fifth.  That  was  not  the  beginning 
of  the  end,  for  the  beginning  had  been  made  by  the 
grandfather  of  Charles  when  he  expelled  the  Jews,  but 
it  carried  the  same  fatal  policy  still  farther  toward  the 
inevitable  end — a  ruin  which  was  completed  by  the 
removal  of  the  capital  to  Madrid.  From  that  time 
Toledo  has  had  a  steady  decline,  till  now  it  is  but  the 
ghost  of  its  former  self.  From  two  hundred  thousand 
inhabitants  it  has  dwindled  to  less  than  one-tenth  that 
number,  and  these  are  poor,  while  their  forefathers  were 
rich.  Except  the  manufacture  of  Toledo  blades,  there  is 
scarcely  any  industry  or  visible  means  of  support,  so  that 
compared  with  its  once  crowded  state,  the  city  is  empty. 
A  few  priests  in  their  black  cloaks  may  be  seen  gliding 
through  the  streets  as  noiselessly  as  the  women  that  come 


THE  VI KW  AT  SUNSET.  203 

out  morning  and  evening  to  matins  and  vespers.  A  few 
soldiers  are  on  duty  here  and  there  in  the  almost  deserted 
streets,  while  their  officers  lounge  and  smoke  before  the 
cafes  in  the  little  public  square.  These,  with  the  usual 
train  of  beggars  to  be  found  in  every  Spanish  city,  are  all 
the  signs  of  life  in  a  city  that  was  once  "  the  crown  of 
Spain,  and  the  light  of  the  whole  world." 

But  though  Toledo  may  be  said  to  be  almost  dead  and 
buried,  it  still  has  the  interest  of  the  past.  History  can 
give  a  charm  to  crumbling  walls  and  ancient  towers.  As 
we  strode  down  the  hill  and  across  the  old  bridge,  beneath 
which  the  Tagus  "nobly  foams  and  flows,"  we  kept  turning 
to  look  back  at  the  long  line  of  battlements  behind  which 
the  sun  was  setting,  and  which  stood  up  grandly  against 
the  evening  sky.  What  a  history  is  written  in  those  old 
walls !  There  is  all  that  remains  of  a  city  which  has  had 
many  masters — Eoman,  Goth,  Moor,  and  Christian — till  at 
last  the  wave  of  time  seems  to  have  swept  past  it,  leaving 
it  stranded  on  a  rock,  but  which  still,  discrowned  and 
desolate,  has  a  melancholy  interest  even  in  its  ruins. 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 
THE  CITY  AND  THE  MOSQUE  OF  CORDOVA. 

At  last  we  are  off  for  the  South  of  Spain.  Our  fort- 
night in  Madrid  has  been  full  of  interest.  We  have  not 
only  seen  another  European  capital,  but  have  got  some 
insight  into  another  people,  and  a  new  idea  of  their  life 
and  character.  The  Spaniard  is  no  longer  an  unknown 
being.  We  have  seen  him  on  his  native  heath,  and  have 
learned  to  respect  his  noble  qualities,  and  to  appreciate 
the  greatness  of  his  country,  as  never  before. 

Our  departure  was  in  the  night.  So  it  is  that  Span- 
iards are  accustomed  to  come  and  go.  I  do  not  like  these 
hours  for  travelling.  It  looks  too  much  as  if  we  were 
seeking  to  escape  under  the  cover  of  darkness,  "as  men 
flee  away  in  battle."  However,  in  this  wintry  season  the 
landscape  is  brown  and  drear,  and  we  do  not  lose  so  much 
as  if  we  were  visiting  Spain  in  the  glorious  Springtime  or 
Summer. 

Perhaps  if  I  had  been  a  Spanish  caballero,  I  should 
have  considered  it  a  sufficient  compensation  for  the  weari- 
ness of  travelling  by  night,  that  we  had  a  very  distin- 
guished fellow-passenger.  For  some  days  it  had  been  said 
that  the  ex-Queen  Isabella,  who  had  been  making  rather  a 


QUEEN  ISABELLA.  205 

long  stay  at  the  Palace,  was  about  to  proceed  to  Seville. 
There  was  a  time  when  she  would  not  have  been  allowed  to 
go  about  the  country  so  freely  ;  when  indeed  she  was  sent 
across  the  frontier  with  more  haste  than  ceremony.  But 
since  the  government  has  become  settled,  she  has  no 
power  for  mischief,  and  is  allowed  to  come  and  go  at  her 
pleasure,  and  so  divides  her  time  between  Paris  and  Mad- 
rid. She  likes  Spain,  and  likes  to  be  in  a  palace.  If  she 
cannot  be  a  Queen,  it  is  something  to  be  a  Queen-Mother  ; 
and  so  she  makes  the  best  of  the  situation,  taking  the 
second  place  if  she  cannot  have  the  first,  and  figuring  as  a 
grand  personage  at  the  Court  receptions.  I  hear  her  spoken 
of,  not  only  with  forbearance,  but  in  a  friendly  way.  In 
spite  of  all  her  misdoings,,  the  Spaniards  seem  to  like  her 
because  of  her  easy  good  nature,  which,  like  charity,  covers 
a  multitude  of  sins.  One  who  knows  her  well  tells  me 
that  "  she's  a  jolly  old  soul."  That  describes  her  exactly. 
She  is  indulgent  to  the  faults  of  others,  considering  per- 
haps how  much  she  has  to  ask  indulgence  for  her  own, 
though  in  fact  I  do  not  suppose  she  thinks  about  the 
matter :  for  she  is  very  religious,  and  makes  large  gifts 
to  the  shrine  of  the  Virgin,  and  has  received  the  Golden 
Kose  from  the  Pope  as  a  sign  of  his  special  favor  and 
benediction,  which  makes  amends  for  everything,  even 
though  she  should  break  all  the  Ten  Commandments. 

It  was  something  to  approach  such  a  royal  personage, 
if  it  were  only  by  being  in  the  same  railway  train,  although 
it  affected  us  just  now  in  the  way  of  inconvenience,  as  it 
made  it  somewhat  difficult  for  us  to  procure  tickets,  we 
being  told  that  the  whole  express  train  had  been  taken  for 
Queen  Isabella  and  her  suite.  However,  we  found  one 
compartment  not  engaged,  so  that  we  could  have  the  honor 
(whatever  that  might  be)  of  travelling  in  company  with 
royalty,  even  though  it  were  only  royalty  dethroned.  I 


206  A  CITY  WITHOUT  INHABITANTS. 

did  not  see  that  it  made  much  difference.  There  was  a 
little  more  than  the  usual  stir  about  the  station,  where  a 
red  carpet  was  spread  across  the  platform  for  her  dainty 
feet.  Her  daughters,  the  Royal  Infantas,  were  there  to  say 
adieu  to  their  mamma  ;  there  was  an  unusual  number  of 
guards  in  attendance,  and  the  Chamberlain  of  the  Palace 
walked  proudly  up  and  down.  But  the  affair  was  soon 
over.  The  Chamberlain  handed  her  Majesty  into  the 
royal  carriage,  and  bowed  his  last  bow  ;  there  was  one 
blast  of  the  bugle,  and  all  on  board,  Queen  and  common- 
ers, moved  off  into  the  darkness.  From  that  moment, 
except  the  steady  rumbling  of  the  train,  not  a  sound  broke 
the  stillness  of  the  night.  The  presence  of  the  Queen 
attracted  no  attention  at  the  different  places  through 
which  we  passed.  It  may  have  been  thought  more 
respectful  to  leave  her  to  undisturbed  repose.  Certainly 
there  was  one  place  at  which  she  might  wish  to  sleep 
soundly,  Alcolea,  where  less  than  twenty  years  ago  she  lost 
her  kingdom  and  crown. 

Nine  miles  south  of  Alcolea  we  reached  our  point  of 
destination,  CORDOVA.  It  was  in  the  gray  of  the  morning, 
and  as  we  rattled  over  the  stony  street,  the  town  seemed 
buried  in  a  grave-like  stillness.  And  indeed  after  we  had 
reached  the  "Hotel  Suisse,"  and  been  warmed  by  hot 
coffee  taken  before  a  blazing  fire,  and  sallied  forth  to  see 
the  place,  we  were  surprised  to  find  it  a  city  without 
inhabitants.  There  are  streets,  but  they  are  empty ;  there 
are  houses  with  doors  and  windows,  the  signs  of  human 
habitation ;  but  where  are  the  people  ?  But  stop — I  am 
mistaken :  for  I  see  a  man !  Yet  before  I  have  time  to  fix 
him  with  my  eye,  he  disappears  round  the  corner.  It  was 
a  priest  on  his  way  to  the  church  to  say  morning  mass, 
and  there  is  a  woman  bound  in  the  same  direction.  "We 
saw  several  others,  but  they  walked  so  softly  that  they 


THE  MOSQUE.  207 

seemed  like  ghosts  that  had  come  abroad  at  that  early 
hour  to  wander  among  the  tombs  in  a  City  of  the  Dead. 
And  this  is  all  that  is  left  of  a  city  that  once  contained  a 
million  of  inhabitants ! 

Of  its  ancient  greatness,  Cordova  retains  but  a  single 
monument,  to  which  therefore  we  at  once  direct  our  steps. 
After  a  long  walk  through  the  silent  and  deserted  streets, 
we  come  to  a  wall  which,  as  it  is  six  feet  thick  and  thirty 
(and  in  some  places  sixty)  feet  high,  might  be  that  of  a 
fortress,  but  which  is  simply  an  enclosure  for  the  sacred 
precincts  within.  We  pass  the  gates,  and  find  ourselves 
in  a  large  court  filled  with  orange  trees  and  palms  (the  first 
sign  that  we  were  getting  under  the  milder  skies  of  Anda- 
lusia), and  tall  cypresses,  with  a  fountain  playing  ;  and  on 
the  other  side  a  long  fa§ade,  which  has  no  grand  architec- 
ture to  make  it  imposing.  We  enter  and  look  around, 
pausing  to  take  in  the  proportions  of  a  structure  that  is 
unlike  any  obher  in  Spain,  or  indeed  in  any  part  of  the 
world.  Nothing  could  be  more  unlike  the  Spanish  cathe- 
drals, with  their  broad  aisles  and  soaring  arches.  Here 
the  ceiling  is  only  forty  feet  high,  and  appears  still  lower 
from  the  vast  space  which  it  covers.  Nor  is  it  much  more 
like  a  mosque,  as  we  have  seen  them  in  the  East.  Who- 
ever has  stood  under  the  dome  of  St.  Sophia  in  Constanti- 
nople, or  in  the  Mosque  of  Omar  at  Jerusalem,  and  by 
these  formed  his  idea  of  what  a  mosque  ought  to  be,  will 
be  disappointed  in  Cordova  :  for  here  is  neither  arch  nor 
dome,  nor  any  of  those  perpendicular  lines  which  are 
thought  to  be  indispensable  to  grandeur  of  effect  in  archi- 
tecture. 

But  if  this  be  neither  mosque  nor  cathedral,  what  is 
it  ?  I  answer,  It  is  a  forest,  a  sacred  grove.  The  imita- 
tion is  apparent  to  every  eye.  One  of  the  most  beautiful 
objects  in  nature  has  furnished  the  suggestion  and  the 


208  A  SACKED  GROVE. 

model  for  one  of  the  grandest  works  of  art.  "Why  should 
it  not  be  so  ?  Why  should  not  a  deep  and  shaded  wood, 
with  its  recesses  and  its  shadows,  furnish  the  type  of  a 
place  of  seclusion  into  which  men  can  retire  to  be  in  the 
presence  of  their  Maker  ?  "  The  groves  were  God's  first 
temples,"  and  no  more  fitting  symbol  can  be  found  for  a 
temple  made  with  hands.  And  now,  to  take  in  the  vast 
dimensions  of  the  place,  imagine  four  acres  of  ground, 
planted  with  twelve  hundred  palm  trees,  which  when  fully 
grown  are  cut  off  at  a  heigKt  of  forty  feet,  leaving  only 
the  tall,  straight  trunks  standing  in  long  lines,  and  forming 
a  succession  of  colonnades,  all  of  which  are  covered  with 
one  mighty  roof — that  is  the  Mosque  of  Cordova ! 

But  surely  that  cannot  be  very  imposing :  it  must  be 
as  bare  and  plain  as  a  Quaker  meeting-house.  But  let 
the  palm  trees  be  transformed  into  twelve  hundred  col- 
umns of  precious  marbles,  of  jasper  and  porphyry  and 
verd-antique,  and  other  richly-colored  stones,  brought 
from  all  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  the  spoils  of 
many  a  palace  and  temple ;  with  a  pavement  of  mosaics, 
and  a  ceiling  richly  panelled  and  gilt ;  and  let  the  whole 
be  lighted  up  at  night  with  a  thousand  lamps,  whose 
brilliancy  is  reflected  from  all  the  glistening  marbles  and 
precious  stones,  and  you  have  an  effect  of  Oriental  splendor. 

Such  was  the  aim  of  the  Moorish  King,  who  laid  its 
foundation  just  eleven  hundred  years  ago.  Cordova  was 
then  a  great  city,  the  capital  of  Moorish  Spain,  and  indeed 
the  capital  of  all  Islam  in  the  West,  as  Bagdad  was  the 
capital  of  Islam  in  the  East,  so  that  the  Caliph  of  Cordova 
divided  with  the  Caliph  of  Bagdad  the  spiritual  dominion 
of  the  whole  Moslem  world.  But  the  East  had  still  one 
great  attraction  for  true  believers,  whose  lives  were  not 
complete  without  a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca.  To  neutralize 
this  by  a  counter  attraction  in  the  West,  a  Caliph  who  was 


THE  MOSQUE.  209 

wise  in  his  generation  determined  to  make  of  Cordova  a 
centre  of  devotion,  by  erecting  here  a  Temple  of  Islam 
that  should  be  to  the  Moslems  of  Europe  and  of  Africa,  if 
not  of  Asia,  what  St.  Peter's  at  Rome  afterwards  became 
to  the  Catholic  world. 

But  we  are  still  standing  at  the  door.  At  the  first 
moment,  as  you  enter,  you  are  bewildered  by  the  maze  of 
columns,  and  perhaps  begin  to  study  the  labyrinth  to  find 
out  its  plan.  But  this  critical  mood  is  fatal;  its  charm 
will  vanish  out  of  your  sight,  as  in  music  the  moment  the 
listener  begins  to  criticise,  he  ceases  to  enjoy.  If  you 
must  study  the  Mosque  of  Cordova,  reserve  that  till  after- 
wards :  for  the  first  hour  give  yourself  up  to  it,  and  you 
will  find  that  it  is  all,  and  more  than  all,  that  you  had 
conceived.  Instead  of  going  directly  to  its  central  nave, 
rather  draw  away  from  it  into  the  more  retired  distances ; 
into  the  soft,  cool  shadows  ;  and  }rou  will  soon  be  subdued 
to  a  feeling  in  harmony  with  the  place,  and  find  a  delicious 
sweetness  in  its  solitude.  And  this,  after  all,  is  its  pecu- 
liar charm — the  stillness  which  comes  from  vastness.  Its 
spaces  are  so  great  that  one  worshipper  does  not  tread 
upon  another.  Yonder  is  a  stranger  pausing  before  a 
chapel,  but  he  is  so  far  away  that  you  cannot  hear  his 
footsteps  or  the  sound  of  his  voice.  Even  though  there 
should  be  a  sudden  irruption  of  barbarians,  in  the  shape 
of  a  crowd  of  foreign  tourists,  eager,  loud,  and  noisy,  they 
need  not  disturb  you  :  for  you  can  move  away  into  the 
distance,  where  all  is  still.  From  this  comes  the  singular 
restfulness  of  the  place.  It  is  like  the  shadow  of  a  great 
rock  in  a  weary  land. 

No  doubt  in  the  climate  of  Andalusia,  in  the  heat  of 
Summer,  this  place  of  coolness — this  groved-temple  or 
templed-grove — was  often  sought  as  a  refuge  from  the 
noontide  heat.  Under  its  shades  the  sun  could  not  smite 


210  CHURCH  IN  THE  CENTRE. 

by  day.  This  rest  of  the  body  induced  quiet  of  the  mind, 
and  prepared  it  for  meditation  and  for  prayer.  Thus 
soothed  and  calmed,  we  can  imagine  how,  in  the  ancient 
days,  the  long-bearded  Moslems  turned  their  faces  towards 
Mecca  and  bowed  themselves  and  worshipped. 

Of  course  we  cannot  enter  into  all  the  moods  of  those 
who  knelt  on  these  pavements  a  thousand  years  ago,  but 
we  can  appreciate  as  we  walk  through  these  long  aisles, 
how  sweet  and  sacred,  in  any  age  and  in  any  country, 
must  be  such  a  retreat  from  the  glare  of  day  and  the  noise 
of  the  world,  into  which  the  troubled  heart  can  withdraw 
itself,  as  into  a  secret  pavilion  of  the  Almighty. 

I  had  been  wandering  about  for  some  time  in  what 
might  be  considered  the  outer  courts  of  the  temple,  when 
in  looking  across  the  central  nave,  I  observed  something 
which  intercepted  the  view,  and  on  approaching  discover- 
ed that  it  was  nothing  less  than  a  church,  dropped  down 
in  the  very  heart  of  the  vast  spaces  around  it.  The  story 
of  this  extraordinary  introduction  is  well  known — how  the 
canons  of  the  cathedral  petitioned  Charles  the  Fifth  for 
liberty  to  remove  over  a  hundred  of  the  columns  in  the 
centre  of  the  Mosque,  in  order  to  erect  a  church  in  its 
place,  to  which  the  Emperor,  always  ready  to  listen  to  the 
priests,  gave  his  consent ;  but  when,  years  after,  he  came 
to  see  what  they  had  done,  he  was  immeasurably  disgusted, 
and  without  taking  the  blame  to  himself  for  his  rash  per- 
mission, rated  them  soundly  for  having  thrust  in  here  what 
they  could  have  built  anywhere,  while  "  they  had  destroy- 
ed what  was  unique  in  the  world."  If  the  poor  priests  who 
made  this  change,  could  have  heard  the  execrations  which 
have  been  heaped  upon  their  memories  for  three  centuries, 
they  would  beg  that  the  church  might  be  devoted  to  the 
offering  of  perpetual  masses  for  their  wretched  souls.  And 
yet,  while  sharing  in  the  feeling  of  disgust  and  indignation. 


THE  OLD  ROMAN  BRIDGE.  211 

I  must  add  that  the  change  affected  me  less  painfully  than 
I  feared.  The  Mosque  is  so  immense,  that  even  the  intru- 
sion of  a  church  does  not  very  perceptibly  diminish  the 
space ;  at  least  it  does  not  have  the  appearance  of 
crowding  which  it  would  have  in  less  ample  surroundings. 
And  as  I  listened  to  the  ancient  litanies,  which  in  spite  of 
all  changes  still  proclaim  the  glory  of  Christ,  it  was  good 
to  hear  that  blessed  name  echoed  and  reechoed  where 
once  none  but  Moslems  heard  the  call  to  prayer. 

We  left  the  mosque  with  a  deep  impression  of  what  is 
certainly,  as  Charles  the  Fifth  said,  "  unique  in  the  world," 
and  walked  slowly  down  to  the  banks  of  the  Guadalquivir, 
and  across  the  old  Koman  bridge  by  which  it  is  still  span- 
ned. From  its  central  arch  one  gets  an  outside  view  of 
the  town,  and  cannot  well  forbear  some  reflections  on  its 
eventful  history.  It  is  said  that  the  idea  of  writing  the 
Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Koman  Empire,  was  suggested  to 
Gibbon  as  he  listened  to  the  monks  chanting  vespers  in 
the  Church  of  the  Ara  Cceli,  on  the  Capitoline  Hill  in 
Home.  Had  he  stood  on  the  bridge  of  Cordova  at  sunset, 
he  might  have  found  a  subject  less  grand  indeed,  but  not 
unworthy  of  his  pen,  in  the  Eise  and  Fall  of  the  Moorish 
Empire  in  Spain.  Cordova  indeed  had  an  existence  long 
before  it  was  captured  by  the  Moors,  or  even  by  the 
Romans.  As  soon  as  emigration  from  the  East  began  to 
flow  into  Spain,  it  was  attracted  to  the  valley  of  the 
Guadalquivir,  and  here  rose  a  city  which  the  Carthagin- 
ians called  "the  gem  of  the  South."  When  Spain  formed 
part  of  the  Roman  Empire,  Cordova  was  rich  and  popu- 
lous. Here  Lucan  the  poet  and  Seneca  the  philosopher 
were  born,  and  Seneca's  brother,  Gallio,  the  procurator  of 
Achaia.  He  is  the  only  Spaniard  whose  name  is  men- 
tioned in  the  Bible ;  and  though  he  is  but  a  passing 
figure,  yet  he  made  one  memorable  utterance,  when  he  de- 


212        GREATNESS  UNDER  THE  MOORS. 

clared  that  the  government  had  not  to  mix  itself  with  ques- 
tions of  religion,  and  thus  saved  the  Apostle  Paul,  and 
gave  him  the  leisure  in  Corinth  to  write  the  Epistle  to  the 
Romans.  Julius  Csesar  describes  the  fortifications  of 
Cordova,  and  how  strong  they  were  he  had  reason  to 
know  when  he  laid  siege  to  the  city,  which  had  taken  the 
side  of  Pompey ;  and  he  must  have  been  angered  by  its 
heroic  resistance,  to  have  massacred  28,000  of  its  inhab- 
itants in  cold  blood!  A  city  thus  decimated  was  half 
destroyed.  Yet  after  this  Cordova  was  rebuilt  and  reset- 
tled by  the  Romans.  But  its  greatest  glory  was  to  come, 
not  from  them,  but  from  another  race  that  crossed  into 
Spain  from  Africa.  Under  the  Moors  it  grew  to  enormous 
proportions.  From  the  ninth  century — that  is,  after  the 
great  mosque  was  built — to  the  twelfth,  it  is  said  to  have 
had  a  million  of  inhabitants.  Its  commerce  extended  to 
all  parts  of  the  Mediterranean,  and  indeed  of  the  civilized 
world.  It  was  a  seat  of  learning  to  which  came  students 
from  every  part  of  Europe  to  obtain  what  they  could  not 
find  in  the  universities  of  France  or  Germany. 

Who  shall  tell  the  story  of  its  decline  and  fall  ?  Here, 
as  in  many  of  the  cities  of  Spain,  we  may  find  the  answer 
in  the  towers  of  the  Inquisition,  which  cast  their  gloomy 
shadows  over  the  Guadalquivir.  Nothing  ever  devised 
by  the  wit  and  wickedness  of  man,  was  so  fitted  to  kill  the 
life  of  a  great  people.  A  few  generations  of  that  heroic 
treatment,  and  the  life-blood  had  flowed  from  the  nation's 
veins  till  its  very  face  had  become  livid  with  the  signs  of 
death.  Cities  and  provinces  were  depopulated,  till  a  coun- 
try that  had  forty  millions  of  people  in  the  time  of  the 
Romans,  has  to-day  less  than  seventeen.  If  plague,  pesti- 
lence, and  famine  had  been  let  loose  upon  unhappy  Spain, 
it  could  not  have  been  more  effectually  destroyed  than  it 
was  by  the  paternal  government  of  its  Catholic  kings. 


CHAPTEE  XV. 
THE  ALHAMBRA— THE  LAST  SIGH  OF  THE   MOOR. 

From  Cordova  it  is  but  three  hours  to  Seville,  and  it 
would  seem  the  thing  to  do,  to  step  from  one  to  the  other. 
But  sometimes  "  the  longest  way  round  is  the  shortest  way 
home."  Just  now  I  had  two  places  in  my  eye — Seville  and 
Granada  :  and,  looking  ahead,  the  question  was  not  where 
I  should  go  first,  but  where  I  should  come  out  last,  as 
the  more  convenient  for  the  departure  from  Spain.  My 
"objective  points"  (to  use  for  once  an  expression  which  I 
hate  ;  which  I  never  used  before,  and  never  will  again) 
were  Gibraltar  and  Africa  ;  and  I  took  Granada  first,  that 
I  might  return  to  Seville  on  the  way  to  Cadiz  to  embark 
for  Gibraltar.  What  if  I  should  have  to  come  back  over  a 
part  of  my  course,  so  long  as  it  was  but  going  up  and  down 
in  Andalusia,  the  garden  of  Spain  ?  So,  instead  of  a  short 
and  easy  ride  to  Seville,  we  turned  our  faces  to  the  East, 
and  travelled  all  the  afternoon,  and  into  the  night,  to  reach 
Granada. 

What  an  afternoon  was  that !  We  were  getting  into 
the  sunny  South  of  Spain.  Although  it  was  still  "  bleak 
December,"  the  earth  seemed  to  feel  from  afar  the  coming 
of  the  Spring.  The  land  before  us  was  like  the  garden  of 


214  ANDALUSIA. 

the  Lord.  If  the  Israelites  could  boast  of  Palestine  as  "  a 
land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey,"  what  would  they  have 
said  if  they  could  have  looked  across  the  Jordan  into 
Andalusia,  with  its  plains  like  those  of  Sharon  and  Esdra- 
elon ;  with  its  vineyards  and  olive-yards,  its  orchards  and 
orange  groves — and  all  under  brighter  skies  and  a  more 
Southern  sun?  For  miles  and  miles  we  rode  through 
one  continuous  succession  of  olive  trees,  which  pour  forth 
literally  rivers  of  oil.  The  hedges  of  cactus  remind  the 
traveller  of  Palestine,  as  the  villages  perched  on  the 
hill-tops  remind  him  of  Italy.  In  Spain,  as  in  Italy,  the 
villages  were  for  the  most  part  begun  in  troubled  times, 
when  a  site  for  human  habitation  had  to  be  chosen  with 
regard  to  its  position  for  defence.  Such  were  the  features 
of  the  landscapes  which  passed  before  us  all  that  after- 
noon, until  night  shut  in  the  scene. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  when  we  ran  into  a  station,  which 
had  about  it  nothing  peculiarly  Moorish  or  Spanish,  but 
was  as  dull  and  common-place  as  any  in  the  back- woods 
of  America.  Nor  was  there  anything  romantic  in  the 
rickety  omnibus,  in  which  we  rattled  over  the  stony 
streets  of  Granada.  How  could  Ferdinand  and  Isabella 
spend  the  resources  of  a  kingdom  in  fighting  for  a  place 
so  unattractive  as  this? 

But  at  length  we  came  to  the  foot  of  a  hill,  and  began 
to  ascend.  All  was  silent  save  the  creaking  of  the  wheels, 
and  we  could  see  but  faintly,  although  enough  to  perceive 
a  dark  shadow  falling  across  our  path  as  we  rode  under 
an  archway,  at  which  a  fellow-passenger  whispered  that 
we  were  entering  the  gates  of  the  Alhambra.  Still  climb- 
ing upward,  we  found  ourselves  in  a  long  avenue  arched 
with  elms,  through  which  the  stars  shone  but  dimly,  when 
suddenly  the  unwieldy  vehicle  came  to  a  stand  at  the 
door  of  the  Washington  Irving  Hotel. 


WASHINGTON  IRVING  HOTEL.  215 

It  is  sometimes  well  to  enter  a  strange  place  in  the 
night,  as  it  hangs  a  veil  of  mystery  over  the  unseen,  leav- 
ing it  to  the  imagination,  which  is  a  mighty  enchanter, 
and  the  reality  breaks  upon  us  only  when  the  mind  has 
been  wound  up  to  the  due  pitch  of  excitement  by  its  own 
fancies  and  dreams. 

As  I  am  always  on  the  lookout  for  these  sweet  surprises, 
I  asked  the  landlord  to  give  me  his  best  room,  not  so 
much  for  sleeping  as  for  sight-seeing,  and  was  accordingly 
inducted  into  an  apartment,  which  with  the  adjoining 
bedroom,  had  no  less  than  five  large  windows,  that  gave 
a  double  outlook :  on  one  side  into  the  grounds  of  the 
Alhambra,  while  on  the  other  I  should  be  able  to  see  the 
sun  rise  over  the  snowy  heights  of  the  Sierra  Nevada. 

So  much  for  romance  :  now  for  creature  comforts. 
"If  you  please,  Sir,  we  will  have  a  blazing  fire,  to  remind 
us  of  home,  and  a  steaming  pot  of  tea,"  more  refreshing 
after  such  a  long  ride  than  all  the  spices  which  ever  distil- 
led their  perfumes  for  the  former  masters  of  the  Alhambra. 
Thus  warmed  and  filled,  we  lay  down  "  to  sleep — perchance 
to  dream,"  for  who  could  help  dreaming  in  a  place  haunted 
by  such  memories  ?  The  wind  was  sighing  through  the 
trees,  mingled  with  a  sound  from  which  the  Alhambra  is 
never  free,  of  the  waters  that  burst  out  of  the  hillside  and 
course  along  the  avenue  before  our  windows.  In  the 
Spring-time  the  woods  are  full  of  nightingales  ;  but  now 
that  it  is  Winter,  they  are  silent,  yet  with  nothing  to 
break  the  stillness  but  "the  voice  of  streams"  and  the 
moaning  of  the  wind,  there  is  enough  to  keep  us  in  a 
dreamy  mood  all  night  long  ;  and  so  between  sleeping 
and  waking,  we  get  a  broken  rest,  "  waiting  for  the  day." 

At  length  it  came,  and  as  soon  as  we  had  our  coffee, 
we  were  on  our  feet,  entering  the  enchanted  ground. 
Taking  our  way  through  the  Gate  of  Justice,  at  which  in 


216  THE  PLAItf  OF  GRANADA. 

the  old  Moorish  times  the  judges  sat  to  administer  the 
law  according  to  the  Koran,  we  continued  upward  to  an 
open  ground  on  the  crest  of  the  hill.    In  visiting  a  hi 
place,  I  find  it  a  good  rule  to  begin  by  seeking 
high  point  from  which  to  take  in  a  general  view  before 
descending  to  details.    In  this  way  I  get  the  points  of 
compass.      In  the  Alhambra  the  best  view  i>   o1.  named 
from  an    old    tower  at    the  extreme    end  of    the   hill. 
Ascending  to  the  roof,  the  e  pe  over  the  whole 

horizon.  Below,  at  our  feet,  lies  the  city  of  * 
while  beyond  it  the  vega  or  plain  stretches  for  thirty  miles 
to  the  foot  of  the  mountains.  The  view  is  very  extensive, 
and  extremely  beautiful  because  of  -  the  shadows  which  the 
mountains  and  the  flying  clouds  cast  over  this  sea  of  ver- 
dure. The  landscape  is  such  as  one  may  see  not  infre- 
quently in  Southern  California,  where  a  broad  plain  is 
shut  in  by  mountain  ranges,  over  which  it  is  a  perpetual 
delight  to  watch  the  rising  and  setting  of  the  sun. 

To  one  familiar  with  the  story  of  the  Conquest  of 
Granada,  as  told  by  "Washington  Irving,  this  vega  is  full 
of  points  of  historic  interest.  Yonder  was  pitched  the 
camp  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella ;  here  the  Spanish  army 
advanced  to  the  attack ;  and  across  the  plain  the  Moors 
"took  their  melancholy  way,"  and  from  the  summit  of  a 
distant  hill  turned  to  gaze  for  the  last  time  at  the  scene  of 
so  much  grandeur  and  glory,  from  which  it  still  bears  the 
sadly  poetic  name  of  "  The  Last  Sigh  of  the  Moor." 

Turning  from  the  vega  to  the  point  on  which  we  stand. 
we  see  how  completely  the  former  is  commanded  by  the 
height,  which  rises  abruptly  and  with  a  lordly  air,  as  if 
nature  intended  it  to  rule  what  it  looks  down  upon. 
Imagine  such  a  hjll  half  a  mile  long,  enclosed  by  the  walls 
o£a  fortress,  above  which  lofty  towers  rise  here  and  there, 
and  you  have  the  old  Moorish  castle  as  it  appears  from 


PALACE    OF   CHARLES   THE   FIFTH.  217 

the  city  of  Granada,  and  from  far  off  on  the  surrounding 
plain. 

But  while  all  this  is  very  interesting,  we  begin  to  get 
impatient,  and  at  last  ask,  "  Wttere  is  the  Alhambra  ?  "  What 
we  have  seen  so  far  is  like  any  other  Castle  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  picturesque  indeed,  but  not  more  so  than  many  a 
Castle  on  the  Khine.  The  Alhambra  was  all  that,  but 
much  more — Fortress  and  Palace  in  one — and  what  we 
are  looking  for  is  the  old  Moorish  Palace,  of  which  we 
have  read  from  our  childhood  as  so  marvellous  in  its 
architecture  and  its  decoration.  As  we  turn  to  the 
grounds  within  the  walls,  we  see  a  Palace  indeed,  vast  in 
size  and  great  in  pretension,  but  which  is  not  Moorish, 
and  is  not  even  completed  ;  which  somebody  must  have 
"begun  to  build,  and  not  been  able  to  finish,"  as  it  stands 
with  its  gateways  wide  open  (for  indeed  they  have  never 
been  closed),  its  windows  unglazed,  and  its  pavilions 
unroofed,  all  open  to  the  sky.  This  is  the  famous  Palace 
of  Charles  V.,  who  authorized  the  Canons  of  Cordova  to 
tear  down  a  hundred  columns  of  the  Mosque  to  erect  a 
church  in  their  place,  and  then  upbraided  them  for  what 
they  did  solely  by  his  permission  ;  and  yet  who  himself 
violated  all  the  proprieties  quite  as  much  by  removing 
part  of  the  Alhambra  to  introduce  what,  amid  such 
surroundings,  is  a  monstrosity. 

However,  one  purpose  it  does  serve.  In  its  present 
condition  of  naked  deformity  —  roofless,  doorless,  and 
windowless — it  is  no  unfit  type  of  Spain  as  Charles  V.  and 
his  son  and  heir,  Philip  IL,  left  it  :  a  mere  shell,  gaunt, 
hollow,  and  empty,  eviscerated  of  the  best  elements  of 
national  life — those  high  and  manly  qualities  which  come 
only  with  freedom.  As  such  a  type,  the  desolate  Palace 
may  stand,  a  monument  of  the  wreck  and  ruin  wrought 
by  kings  who  were  the  destroyers  of  their  country. 


218  THE  ALHAMBRA. 

As  this  unfinished  structure  fills  up  the  foreground  so 
as  to  throw  everything  else  into  the  shade,  we  scarcely 
notice,  half-concealed  behind  it,  the  outer  wall  of  a  group 
of  low  buildings,  that  would  be  taken  for  the  offices  appro- 
priated to  the  servants  of  the  Palace,  and  are  completely 
"  dumbfounded  "  when  told  that  there  is  the  Alhambra ! 

We  advance  incredulous,  prepared  for  a  terrible  disap- 
pointment ;  but  as  we  enter,  we  find  that  in  architecture, 
as  in  human  character,  the  exterior  and  the  interior  do 
not  always  correspond.  The  instant  we  pass  within,  we 
are  out  of  Spain,  and  in  the  gorgeous  East — in  Damascus 
or  Cairo,  in  Agra  or  Delhi.  The  general  plan  of  the 
Alhambra  is  that  of  a  series  of  courts,  of  which  the  most 
famous  is  the  Court  of  Lions,  but  all  of  which,  whether 
larger  or  smaller,  are  laid  out  on  one  model,  round  an 
open  square,  in  the  centre  of  which  is  a  fountain.  The 
fountain  is  an  indispensable  feature,  giving  something  of 
its  life  and  grace  to  cold,  gray  walls.  The  fountains  of  the 
Alhambra,  fed  from  the  adjacent  hills,  in  the  old  times 
were  supplied  with  abundance  of  water,  which  sparkled  in 
the  air  of  every  court,  filling  the  place  with  its  constant 
murmur,  and  tempering  with  a  delicious  coolness  the  heat 
of  Summer.  Sometimes,  as  in  the  Court  of  the  Myrtles, 
the  open  space  is  filled  with  trees,  the  myrtle,  the  orange, 
and  the  tall,  majestic  cypress  ;  and  running  round  the 
four  sides  of  the  square  is  a  pillared  portico,  with  passages 
opening  into  large  Halls,  such  as  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors ; 
or  into  the  private  apartments  of  the  Sovereign,  or  the 
more  secluded  chambers,  which  must  be  very  numerous 
for  the  women  of  an  Eastern  household.  Underneath  are 
the  spacious  baths,  one  of  the  first  conditions  of  Oriental 
luxury.  This  general  plan  does  not  differ  from  that  of 
other  Eastern  palaces,  to  which  the  Alhambra  is  superior 
only  in  the  elaboration  of  its  details,  in  which  are  employed 


SARACENIC  ARCHITECTURE.  219 

all  the  devices  of  Saracenic  architecture,  such  as  the  horse- 
shoe arches  so  often  seen  in  Turkish  mosques,  resting  on 
columns  so  slender  that  the  mass  above  them  almost  hangs 
in  air  ;  with  the  decoration  of  the  interior,  in  which  the 
ceilings  are  fretted  and  honey-combed  till  they  almost 
float  above  you  like  canopies  of  lace — an  illusion  completed 
by  the  walls  covered  with  vines,  whose  tendrils  are  so  fine 
and  delicate,  and  so  interwoven  with  each  other,  as  to  give 
to  one  of  these  interiors  the  appearance  of  an  Eastern 
bower. 

If  I  was  not,  however,  quite  so  much  overpowered  by 
the  Alhambra  at  first  sight  as  some  younger  and  more 
romantic  travellers,  it  was  because  I  had  already  seen  its 
like  in  another  part  of  the  world.  Bayard  Taylor  once 
said  to  me  that  the  Alhambra  was  not  to  be  compared 
with  certain  temples  and  mosques  in  India,  an  opinion  in 
which,  having  seen  both,  I  fully  agree.  When  the  Great 
Mogul  reigned  in  Delhi,  and  sat  on  his  Peacock  Throne, 
blazing  with  jewels  of  priceless  value,  he  was  surrounded 
with  a  wealth  and  magnificence  never  possessed  by  the 
Moorish  kings  of  Spain.  Nor  does  any  monument  or 
mausoleum  here,  or  in  all  Europe,  equal  the  matchless 
beauty  of  the  Taj,  the  jewel  of  Asia. 

But  laying  aside  comparisons,  it  needs  but  a  few  hours 
to  discover  that  the  Alhambra  is  worthy  of  all  its  fame. 
We  see  it  at  a  disadvantage,  for  what  remains  is  but  the 
fragment  of  what  it  once  was.  Besides  the  part  torn 
down  by  Charles  V.  to  make  room  for  his  ill  placed  and 
never  finished  Palace,  it  had  been  before  his  time,  as  it 
has  been  since,  the  prey  of  the  spoiler,  doming  into  the 
hands  of  masters  who  little  appreciated  its  marvellous 
beauty,  it  was  mutilated  and  defaced  :  in  many  cases  its 
arabesques  were  covered  with  plaster,  so  that  its  walls 
were  left  naked  and  bare,  stripped  of  the  grace  they  once 


220  SIX  HUNDRED  TEARS  AGO. 

possessed.  Thus  dismantled  and  discrowned,  it  is  difficult 
to  get  an  idea  of  what  the  Alhambra  really  was  in  the 
days  of  its  splendor.  Some  of  its  most  striking  parts  are 
quite  detached  from  the  main  structures.  A  German 
photographer,  who  lives  in  the  grounds,  and  has  made  a 
study  of  the  Alhambra  for  his  pictures,  in  which  he  shows 
the  taste  of  an  artist,  took  us  to  several  towers — one  of 
which  was  for  the  Sultana — perched  at  a  great  height 
above  the  valley  of  the  Darro,  from  the  windows  of  which 
the  view  without  was  as  beautiful  as  the  interior  was 
exquisite.  Of  course  all  is  now  desolate  and  dreary. 
But  six  centuries  ago  this  was  the  residence  of  a  court, 
and  the  scene  of  boundless  luxury,  when  the  pavements, 
now  so  hard  and  cold,  were  covered  with  the  softest  of 
Eastern  fabrics  for  gentle  feet,  while  slaves  glided  along 
the  corridors  with  noiseless  footsteps.  Then,  as  the  beau- 
ties of  the  harem  sat  in  their  high  towers  and  looked  out 
of  their  latticed  windows,  the  outer  world  seemed  far 
away ;  all  things  were  softened  in  the  airy  distance ; 
mountains  melted  in  the  golden  sunset,  or  were  bathed  in 
the  moonlight.  So  was  it  that  contact  with  rude  realities 
was  spared  to  these  secluded  beings,  who  were  lifted  up 
so  high  that  the  world  lay  far  below  them,  and  no  sound 
came  up  to  them  save  the  rapid  rushing  of  the  river  in 
the  valley  beneath.  They  lived  in  a  world  of  their  own, 
in  which  existence,  without  care  and  with  every  desire  for 
pleasure  gratified,  was  one  long  dream.  With  such  beauty 
on  every  side,  and  such  life  animating  these  now  deserted 
halls,  we  can  well  believe  that  the  Alhambra  was  an  abode 
of  luxury  such  as  was  not  to  be  found  elsewhere  on  the 
earth. 

But  it  was  not  given  up  merely  to  soft  delights  and 
idle  dalliances :  it  was  a  seat  of  government.  If  the 
Palace  itself  were  limited  in  extent,  it  is  probable  that 


RESTORATION  OF  THE  ALHAMBRA.  221 

the  buildings  connected  with  it,  with  the  intervening 
courts  and  gardens,  covered  the  whole  plateau,  in  which 
there  was  the  population  of  a  small  imperial  city.  Here 
in  the  Hall  of  Ambassadors  the  Moorish  King  received 
the  representatives  of  foreign  powers.  Perhaps  the  old 
fortress-palace  was  at  times  the  centre  of  intrigues  and 
conspiracies.  So  it  must  have  been,  if  we  are  to  believe 
the  tragic  story  that  in  the  Hall  of  the  Abencerrages 
thirty-two  of  that  royal  race  were  in  one  day  butchered 
in  cold  blood,  whose  red  stain  not  all  the  water  of  the 
ever-flowing  fountain  could  wash  away. 

Although  the  Alhambra  has  had  a  hard  fate  at  the 
hands  of  its  many  spoilers,  it  is  pleasant  to  record  that 
which  has  been  done  to  restore  it  to  something  of  its 
ancient  beauty.  Naturally  the  pride  of  the  government 
and  people  was  concerned  to  preserve  the  most  interest- 
ing historical  monument  in  all  Spain,  and  forty  years  ago 
Senor  Rafael  Contreras  was  appointed  its  "Governor." 
In  competence  for  the  task  which  it  imposed,  he  had  no 
superior  nor  equal,  and  for  all  these  years  he  has  labored 
not  only  to  preserve  what  remains  of  the  Aihambra,  but 
in  some  degree  to  restore  it  "With  infinite  care  he  has 
removed  the  encrustations  of  plaster  with  which  barba- 
rians had  covered  the  precious  designs,  and  in  many  cases 
has  supplied  parts  which  were  wanting  with  such  skill, 
that  it  is  difficult  to  distinguish  them  from  the  originals. 
Even  the  richness  of  coloring,  which  in  almost  all  instances 
had  faded  out  of  the  old  walls,  he  has  to  some  extent 
reproduced,  if  not  in  the  Alb  am  bra  itself,  in  the  models 
which  he  has  constructed  in  his  studio — in  which  young 
artists  may  find  abundant  materials  for  a  School  of  Deco- 
ration ;  and  travellers  who  are  interested  in  calling  the 
forms  of  the  buried  past  out  of  their  graves,  may  have  the 
means  to  reconstruct  the  dwelling-place-  of  the  Moorish 


222  MOORISH  CIVILIZATION. 

kings  as  it  was  when  all  these  courts  and  halls  were 
enriched  with  every  kind  of  decoration  ;  when  the  slender 
columns  were  wreathed  with  vines  and  flowers  ;  when  the 
walls  were  covered  with  arabesques,  and  inlaid  with  pre- 
cious stones ;  and  the  ceilings  reflected  the  light  of  a 
thousand  lamps  from  their  myriad  points  touched  with 
gold.  Thus  studied,  the  Alhambra  is  a  lesson  in  history, 
which  gives  us  a  new  idea  of  the  Moorish  civilization  ;  of 
the  progress  which  this  wonderful  people  had  made  in 
science  and  art,  and  of  the  refinement  of  their  manner  of 
life,  in  all  which  they  may  bear  a  comparison  with  the 
most  cultivated  nations  of  Europe. 

To  the  thorough  knowledge  of  this  subject,  no  man 
has  contributed  so  much  as  Senor  Contreras,  who  has 
made  it  the  study  of  a  life-time.  Living  in  the  Alhambra 
for  forty  years,  he  has  had  before  him  the  most  perfect 
specimen  of  Moorish  art,  and  has  been  constantly  surprised 
by  the  manifestations  of  the  knowledge  and  skill  of  the 
Moors,  as  the  fruit  of  which  he  has  written  a  large  octavo 
volume  devoted  wholly  to  their  arts  and  industries,  their 
manners  and  customs,  and  their  institutions  of  learning 
and  religion.*  The  book  is  a  revelation  in  regard  to  a 
race  to  which  few  historians  have  done  justice. 

For  proof  of  their  skill  as  cultivators  of  the  soil,  it  is 
enough  to  look  at  the  plain  which  surrounds  this  city  of 
Granada.  The  Moors  were  the  best  agriculturists  of  their 
time.  They  introduced  the  system  of  irrigation,  by  which 
the  water  coming  from  the  mountains  was  turned  into 
artificial  channels,  and  distributed  to  innumerable  planta- 
tions, a  system  which  is  still  continued,  for  the  best  of  all 
reasons,  that  it  is  impossible  to  devise  a  better.  On  the 
old  tower  of  the  Alhambra  hangs  a  bell  which  is  rung 

*  SOUVENIRS  OF  THE  BULE  OF  THE  ARABS  IN  SPAIN  :  Its  Tradi- 
ditions,  Arts,  &c.    Published  in  Granada, 


GENERAL  PROSPERITY.  223 

every  night  at  half-past  eight,  and  at  short  intervals  all 
night  long,  as  a  signal  to  those  far  and  near  of  the  hour  at 
which  they  can  turn  on  the  water  that  is  running  in  a 
thousand  streams  all  over  the  vega.  Thus  none  of  it  is 
wasted,  and  yet  all  are  abundantly  supplied.  By  this 
prudent  economy  of  the  element  on  which  production 
depends,  the  vega  is  made  to  yield  three  or  four  crops  a 
year. 

Agriculture  is  the  basis  of  the  prosperity  of  a  country. 
Wealth  derived  from  the  soil  soon  stimulates  other  indus- 
tries. The  Moors  became  skilful  artificers  in  the  precious 
metals,  in  gold  and  silver,  and  in  brass  and  iron.  With 
this  general  prosperity  grew  a  taste  for  science  and  know- 
ledge of  every  kind.  Having  builded  towns  and  cities, 
they  founded  Universities,  and  were  for  centuries  the 
masters  of  learning  in  Europe.  All  these  elements  were 
combined  to  produce  the  consummate  flower  of  Moorish 
civilization. 

With  such  evidences  of  the  flourishing  condition  of  the 
kingdom  of  the  Moors  ;  seeing  how  far  advanced  they 
were  in  all  the  arts  of  peace  ;  one  cannot  help  asking  if 
their  expulsion  from  a  country  which  they  had  made  so 
rich  and  prosperous,  was  not  a  loss  which  was  but  poorly 
compensated  by  the  Spaniards  who  succeeded  them  ? 

To  this  question  there  could  be  but  one  answer  if  it 
were  not  complicated  with  another,  the  question  of 
religion.  The  war  between  the  Spaniard  and  the  Moor  is 
assumed  to  have  been  chiefly,  if  not  exclusively,  a  war 
between  the  Crescent  and  the  Cross.  This  is  taken  for 
granted  not  only  by  Spanish  historians,  but  by  those  of 
England  and  even  of  America.  Washington  Irving  writes 
of  the  Conquest  of  Granada  as  if  it  were  the  great  epic  of 
Spain,  made  glorious  by  exploits  of  knightly  chivalry  in 
the  most  sacred  of  all  causes.  Of  these  associations  it  is 


224  WAR  OF  THE  SPANIARD  AND  THE  MOOR 

hard  to  divest  ourselves  so  as  to  judge  the  matter  in  the 
clear,  cold  light  of  reason  and  of  truth. 

So  far  as  the  chivalry  goes,  all  that  he  has  written  is 
true.  Eegarded  solely  as  an  exhibition  of  martial  prowess, 
the  war  between  the  Spaniard  and  the  Moor  was  one  of 
the  most  notable  events  in  European  history.  It  lasted 
for  nearly  eight  hundred  years.  It  was  handed  down 
from  sire  to  son,  from  generation  to  generation ;  and 
though  often  interrupted  by  a  temporary  truce,  it  was  as 
often  renewed,  and  fought  on  and  on  to  the  bitter  end, 
with  an  endurance  which  showed  that  both  races  were  of 
heroic  blood.  So  far  it  is  a  history  of  which  Spaniard  and 
Moor  might  alike  be  proud.  But  we  are  not  allowed  to 
stop  here,  but  must  accept  it  as  a  Holy  War,  waged  in  the 
blessed  name  of  Christ.  If  this  be  so,  of  course  all  our 
sympathies  are  on  the  side  of  our  religion.  But  may  we 
not  have  been  too  hasty  in  accepting  this  as  something 
not  to  be  denied  ?  I  do  not  put  forward  my  own  opinion 
as  of  any  value  in  determining  a  historical  question  of 
such  moment,  but  I  do  give  weight  to  tlie  opinions  pf 
scholars  who  have  devoted  years  to  its  study,  especially 
when  they  are  at  once  good  Spaniards  and  good  Catholics. 

In  the  city  of  Madrid  there  is  not  a  more  honored 
name  than  that  of  Senor  Biaiio,  who  is  not  only  a  Senator, 
but  a  man  learned  in  Spanish  history,  and  the  associate  of 
the  learned  men  of  the  capital.  When  Mr.  Lowell  was 
the  American  Minister  in  Madrid,  it  was  at  this  house 
that  he  was  most  at  home,  since  here  he  found  not  only  a 
charming  domestic  circle,  but  that  society  of  literary  and 
scientific  men  which  was  most  congenial  to  his  tastes. 
Yet  this  Spanish  Senator  and  scholar  did  not  hesitate  to 
say  that  he  thought  the  expulsion  of  the  Moors  had  been 
an  immeasurable  calamity  to  Spain. 

The  only  authority  higher  than  this  that  I  can  think 


NOT  A  WAR  OF  RELIGION.  225 

of,  is  that  of  Senor  Contreras  himself,  to  whom  Senor 
Riafio  gave  me  a  letter  when  I  came  to  Granada.  In  our 
conversation  he  made  no  private  disclosures,  but  said  to 
me  only  what  he  would  say  to  any  one  ;  so  that  I  do  not 
feel  that  I  violate  any  confidence  in  giving  others  the 
benefit  of  an  opinion  which  comes  from  a  source  so  distin- 
guished, and  which  was  expressed  without  the  slightest 
reserve.  This  I  will  give  as  nearly  as  I  can  in  his  own 
words.  He  said  : 

"No  history  had  been  made  the  subject  of  more 
romance  than  that  of  the  war  between  the  Spaniards  and 
the  Moors.  It  had  been  represented  as  a  "War  of  Relig- 
ions— a  holy  crusade  to  subdue  an  unbelieving  people  to 
the  faith.  But  he  could  not  look  upon  it  at  all  in  that 
light.  He  did  not  think  that^  it  was  inspired  by  any  such 
exalted  impulse,  but  by  a  much  more  sordid  motive.  If 
the  whole  truth  were  told,  he  believed  that  its  animating 
spirit  was  one  of  selfish  greed.  The  reasons  for  his  belief 
were  obvious.  Andalusia  was  the  richest  part  of  Spain. 
The  Centre  and  the  North  were  but  thinly  inhabited,  the 
population  being  confined  chiefly  to  the  seacoast.  But 
in  the  South  was  a  countiy  naturally  fertile,  and  which 
the  Moors,  with  their  careful  industry,  had  made  as  rich 
as  the  Valley  of  the  Nile.  This  was  in  tempting  contrast 
to  the  bleak  uplands  of  Castile  and  Arragon,  and  it  was 
not  strange  that  the  descendants  of  the  Goths  should  cast 
a  covetous  eye  on  these  rich  plains  of  the  South.  Why 
should  this  paradise  remain  in  the  hands  of  unbelievers  ? 
To  drive  them  out  and  get  possession  of  their  country, 
was  the  object  of  the  Spaniards  in  their  perpetual  wars. 
No  doubt  they  were  inflamed  with  a  fiery  zeal  to  convert 
the  Moors,  but  they  were  not  at  all  scrupulous  about  the 
means  of  their  conversion.  War  answered  their  purpose 
better  than  preaching  the  GospeL  What  they  wanted 


226        EXODUS  OF  THE  CONQUERED. 

most  was  not  the  spiritual  good  of  the  Moslems,  but  their 
towns  and  cities,  their  houses  and  gardens  and  well- 
watered  fields.  They  were  much  more  anxious  to  get 
possession  of  the  lands  of  the  Moors  than  to  save  their 
souls." 

This  is  strong  language,  but  it  is  fully  justified  by 
history.  Eeligion  was  but  the  pretext  of  wars  which  were 
not  holy,  but  im-holy,  and  all  the  worse  because  of  tho 
false  pretence  under  which  they  were  masked.  It  is  r, 
burlesque  of  history  to  represent  them  as  in  any  true 
sense  religious.  As  well  might  we  claim  that  our  wars 
against  the  unhappy  Indian  tribes  were  undertaken  for 
missionary  purposes.  How  false  and  base  was  Ferdinand, 
the  Catholic  King  who  conquered  Granada,  he  showed  at 
the  siege  of  Malaga,  when  he  took  from  his  captives  their 
jewels  and  their  gold  as  a  ransom,  and  afterwards  sold 
them  into  slavery — a  treachery  which  alone  is  enough  to 
brand  his  name  with  infamy. 

At  last  the  Moors  were  expelled  from  a  country  in 
which  they  were  not  thought  fit  to  live.  They  had  not 
even  the  privilege  accorded  to  other  conquered  peoples,  to 
remain  in  the  land  which  their  industry  had  made  rich, 
but  were  driven  out  without  mercy.  Then  began  a 
procession  of  misery  such  as  the  world  has  seldom  seen, 
when  fathers  and  mothers  with  their  little  children  left 
their  homes,  and  took  up  their  march  for  the  sea,  over 
which  they  were  transported  to  the  Barbary  Coast,  there 
to  perish  miserably  on  the  shores  of  Africa. 

Was  this  a  victory  for  the  Cross  ?  No  indeed  ;  the 
religion  of  our  Divine  Master  is  not  to  be  made  responsi- 
ble for  such  crimes  as  this.  It  was  a  victory  for  tyranny, 
oppression,  and  cruelty.  It  was  an  act  of  national  suicide, 
from  which  Spain  has  not  recovered  to  this  day.  Spanish 
historians  may  try  to  apologize  for  the  cruel  deed,  and  to 


THE  LAST  SIGH  OF  THE  MOOR.  227 

make  out  that  it  was  not  a  great  national  calamity  ;  yet 
the  fact  remains,  that  under  the  Moors,  Andalusia  was 
more  prosperous  and  more  populous  than  ever  before,  or 
since.  No  such  exodus  has  taken  place  in  any  country 
since  the  Israelites  went  out  of  Egypt.  Andalusia  was 
half  depopulated.  Granada  had  then  half  a  million  of 
inhabitants  :  to-day  it  has  but  seventy  thousand.  Cordova 
had  a  million  of  people  :  to-day  it  is  a  city  of  the  dead ! 

This  was  not  a  pleasant  conclusion  to  our  reflections 
on  the  Alhambra,  but  melancholy  as  it  is,  it  is  better  to 
see  things  as  they  are,  than  in  the  false  light  of  romance, 
which  in  leading  to  wrong  judgments,  prepares  the  way 
for  future  errors.  As  we  left  the  house  of  Senor  Contre- 
ras,  we  turned  our  steps  once  more  to  the  old  tower  of  the 
Alhambra,  to  take  a  last  look  over  the  vega.  The  sun  had 
just  sunk  behind  the  distant  mountains,  but  the  west  was 
still  aflame  with  the  glory  of  the  dying  day.  Above,  the 
sky  was  of  the  deepest  blue.  At  that  sunset  hour,  and  in 
that  soft  evening  light,  the  broad  expanse  below  seemed 
as  if  it  might  be  a  meeting  ground  for  men  of  all  races 
and  all  creeds,  where  they  could  dwell  together  in  peace, 
and  learn  war  no  more. 

Looking  across  the  plain,  where  once  the  dusky  chil- 
dren of  the  East  sat  under  their  vines  and  their  fig-trees, 
who  could  help  mourning  their  unhappy  fate  ?  On  the 
horizon  we  saw  distinctly  the  hill-top  from  which  they 
turned  to  take  their  farewell  of  the  Alhambra,  and  recall- 
ing what  we  had  just  heard,  we  could  not  but  recognize 
the  melancholy  truth  that  "the  last  sigh  of  the  Moor" 
was  the  last  sigh  of  a  splendid  civilization,  which  then 
departed  never  to  return. 


CHAPTEE  XVI. 
THE  ARCHBISHOP  OF  GRANADA. 

In  my  wanderings  about  the  world,  it  has  been  my  lot 
to  be  brought  in  contact  with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of 
men — men  of  all  countries,  speaking  all  languages  ;  and 
men  of  all  Churches  and  creeds,  worshipping  God  in 
many  forms  ;  and  I  have  found  good  in  them  all.  In  this 
varied  experience  I  have  made  the  discovery  (which, 
though  not  new,  every  one  has  to  make  for  himself)  that 
true  greatness  of  character  belongs  not  to  one  caste,  but 
to  men  of  every  race  and  clime  ;  and  nothing  gives  me  so 
much  pleasure  as  to  cross  the  lines,  and  grasp  the  hand  of 
one  from  whom  I  am  widely  separated.  And  so  it  is  that, 
Protestant  as  I  am,  I  come  to  pay  my  tribute  to  a  digni- 
tary of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  for  his  heroic  courage 
in  the  relief  of  human  suffering. 

Before  I  left  America  for  my  recent  visit  to  Spain,  I 
said  to  my  dear  and  honored  friend,  the  late  President 
Hitchcock,  that  as  I  was  going  to  a  Catholic  country,  I 
hoped  I  might  meet  some  good  representatives  of  its 
religion.  I  had  heard  a  great  deal  said  against  the 
Church  of  Spain ;  that  it  was  given  up  to  forms  and 
superstitions ;  and  that  its  priests  were  of  a  low  type 


THE  INTRODUCTION.  229 

intellectually  and  morally,  being  generally  ignorant,  and 
not  ^infrequently  immoral.  "  But  surely,"  I  said,  "  among 
so  many  hundreds  and  thousands  there  must  be  some 
priests  and  bishops  who  are  both  learned  and  devout." 
Yet  I  did  not  find  much  encouragement  to  seek  such 
acquaintance.  Even  an  eminent  Roman  Catholic  of 
America,  who  had  gone  to  Spain  with  the  same  purpose 
in  view,  told  me  that  he  had  found  little  to  reward  his 
search  ;  and  predicted  that  I  "  would  have  my  trouble 
for  my  pains."  This  was  discouraging,  and  I  might  have 
come  away  with  the  same  impression,  had  I  not  had  the 
good  fortune  in  Madrid  to  know  a  lady  who  is  equally  at 
home  in  English  and  in  Spanish  society,  and  who  is  herself 
a  devout  Catholic,  to  whom  I  expressed  my  desire,  when 
she  at  once  replied,  "My  husband  (a  Senator  of  Spain) 
will  give  you  a  letter  to  the  Archbishop  of  Granada,  who 
distinguished  himself  so  greatly  last  year  in  the  cholera." 
I  accepted  the  courtesy,  and  after  a  visit  to  the  Alhambra, 
came  down  into  the  old  city  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella, 
and  made  my  way  to  the  Archiepiscopal  palace.  In  Spain 
it  would  be  thought  unworthy  of  the  dignity  of  an  Arch- 
bishop if  he  did  not  live  in  a  palace  :  and  so  I  was  not 
surprised  to  be  conducted  up  a  grand  staircase  into  an 
ante-room,  where  a  number  of  persons  were  waiting  for  an 
audience.  As  "  Monseigneur "  was  engaged,  I  was  kept 
waiting  half  an  hour,  and  fearing  that  he  might  be  occu- 
pied all  the  afternoon,  I  proposed  to  leave  my  respects 
and  retire,  but  the  attendant  who  had  taken  my  card  and 
the  introduction,  begged  me  to  wait  a  little  longer,  appa- 
rently fearing  that  he  should  be  reproved  if  he  allowed 
me  to  depart,  for  he  kept  saying  "  "What  should  I  do  with 
this  letter?" 

At  length  the  door  opened,  and  I  was  ushered  into  the 
presence  of  a  man  a  little  turned  of  sixty,  who  as  he  rose 


230  A  TRIBUTE  TO  PROTESTANTS. 

to  receive  me,  showed  a  manly  figure,  a  little  inclined  to 
stoutness,  which  he  described  pleasantly  as  vieillesse  antici- 
pee.  But  a  slight  touch  of  age  only  gave  added  dignity  to 
his  presence,  especially  when  above  it  shone  a  countenance 
as  kindly  and  benignant  as  I  ever  saw.  He  said  that 
Senor  Eiano  had  already  written  of  my  coming,  and  that 
he  was  glad  to  see  me,  not  only  as  the  friend  of  his  friend, 
but  as  a  stranger  and  an  American.  Nor  did  his  pleasure 
seem  in  the  least  abated  by  the  fact  that  I  was  a  Protest- 
ant. About  this  I  had  no  reserve  or  disguise,  for  I  did 
not  intend  to  appear  under  false  colors.  But  I  could 
say  truly  that  I  knew  many  Catholics,  among  whom  were 
some  who  were  not  only  dear  to  me  as  friends,  but  men  of 
such  elevation  of  character  that  I  held  them  in  the  highest 
honor. 

To  this  he  replied  in  the  same  spirit.  Though  he 
believed  in  the  Holy  Catholic  Church  as  the  one  body  of 
Christ,  it  by  no  means  followed  that  all  the  good  were 
included  even  within  its  extensive  pale.  He  knew  many 
Protestants  who  were  not  only  good  citizens  and  good 
neighbors,  but  exemplary  Christians,  and  said,  "  I  would 
take  off  my  hat  to  a  Protestant,  who  is  a  man  of  sincere 
conviction  and  consistent  life.3' 

He  is  a  native  of  Malaga,  which  is  the  residence  of 
many  foreign  merchants,  so  that  the  sight  of  Englishmen 
in  the  streets  is  not  so  rare  as  in  some  cities  of  Spain. 
This  better  acquaintance  softened  prejudice  and  won 
respect.  He  spoke  particularly  of  the  late  English  Consul 
as  one  of  the  most  excellent  of  men  ;  and  of  the  ladies  of 
his  family  as  known  in  all  Malaga,  not  only  for  the  sweet- 
ness and  gentleness  which  might  be  expected  of  refined 
Englishwomen,  but  for  their  kindness  to  the  poor  and  the 
sick,  and  their  innumerable  charities  ;  and  indeed  "  they 
were  patterns  of  all  the  Christian  virtues." 


THE  EARTHQUAKE  IN  GRANADA.  231 

I  asked  the  Archbishop  about  his  experience  in  the 
cholera,  to  which  he  answered  with  great  modesty,  saying 
that  "  he  had  only  done  his  duty,"  as  if  that  was  not  just 
the  thing  which  most  of  us  fail  to  do.  It  was  only  at  a 
second  interview  (for  he  pressed  me  earnestly  to  come 
again),  after  I  had  heard  from  others  of  his  heroic  conduct, 
that  I  was  able  to  make  my  inquiries  more  intelligently, 
and  to  elicit  fuller  information. 

I  learned  that  within  the  past  two  years  Granada  had 
suffered  from  two  of  the  greatest  calamities  that  can  visit 
a  city  :  an  earthquake  and  the  cholera.  The  earthquake 
took  place  about  Christmas,  1884.  It  came  without  pre- 
monition :  with  no  preceding  tremor  of  the  earth  or  dark- 
ening of  the  sky.  It  occurred  at  night,  but  a  night  of 
such  peace  as  became  the  holy  Christmas  tide.  A  resident 
of  Granada  said  to  me,  "It  was  a  beautiful  moonlight 
night  when  I  felt  the  first  shock."  In  an  instant  all  was 
terror  and  dismay.  So  violent  was  it  as  to  cause  great 
destruction  of  property  and  loss  of  life,  and  to  create  such 
consternation  that  the  people  fled  from  their  homes  and 
camped  in  the  fields,  though  they  were  covered  with 
snow.  After  a  time  they  recovered  calmness  and  return- 
ed to  their  dwellings,  when  in  six  months  Granada  had 
another  visitation,  which  was  to  prove  still  more  terrible. 

The  cholera  did  not  excite  such  immediate  alarm  as 
the  earthquake,  for  though  the  very  word  is  a  word  of 
terror,  its  ravages  were  not  so  great  at  first  as  afterwards. 
But  still  a  place  in  which  the  cholera  had  made  a  begin- 
ning, was  one  which  a  prudent  man  would  wish  to  avoid. 

It  was  at  this  moment  that  Granada  received  a  new 
Archbishop.  The  former  one  had  fled  from  the  city  at 
the  first  appearance  of  the  cholera,  but  his  very  fright 
brought  on  an  attack  from  which  he  died.  His  successor, 
Father  Moreno,  had  been  private  chaplain  to  the  King, 


232         HORRORS  OF  THE  CHOLERA. 

and  was  now  promoted  to  the  See  of  Granada — a  position 
of  great  dignity,  but  of  great  exposure  also,  and  his  friends 
advised  him  to  remain  in  Madrid  until  the  danger  was 
over.  They  little  knew  the  temper  of  the  man,  who  found 
in  this  only  a  reason  for  hastening  to  the  post  of  duty. 
His  courage  was  soon  put  to  the  test :  for  scarcely  had 
he  taken  up  his  residence  in  Granada  when  the  cholera, 
which  had  hitherto  appeared  only  in  a  less  degree,  burst 
forth  anew,  and  raged  with  the  utmost  violence.  Instead 
of  deaths  here  and  there,  the  people  died  by  scores  and 
by  hundreds.  All  who  could  leave  the  city  fled,  but 
enough  still  remained  to  furnish  the  harvest  of  death. 
Of  course  its  ravages  were  greatest  among  the  poor,  who 
could  make  no  provision  against  it,  living  in  wretched 
habitations,  which  were  the  breeding-places  of  pestilence. 
In  a  few  weeks  ten  thousand  had  died — one-seventh  of  the 
whole  population  !  Indeed  on  some  days  the  mortality 
was  much  greater  than  this,  as  when  over  five  hundred 
died  in  one  day — a  rate  which,  if  continued  for  five 
months,  would  have  left  in  the  city  not  a  single  human 
being ! 

Such  appalling  mortality  struck  everybody  with  terror. 
The  demoralization  was  almost  worse  than  death.  l3ut 
how  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  Who  could  control  himself  in 
presence  of  a  plague  like  that  of  the  first-born  in  Egypt, 
when  "  there  was  not  a  house  in  which  there  was  not  one 
dead "  ?  It  was  hardly  possible  to  find  nurses  for  the 
sick  :  for  as  soon  as  the  fatal  disease  appeared,  the  living 
fled  from  them.  A  German  resident  told  me  of  the  sad 
fate  of  one  of  his  countrymen,  an  artist,  who  after  pursuing 
his  studies  in  Florence  (where  he  had  given  promise  of 
future  distinction)  came  to  Granada  to  make  sketches  of 
the  Alhambra,  for  which  he  took  up  his  quarters  in  one  of 
the  old  towers,  having  as  his  only  attendant  a  woman  to 


HOW  THEY  BURIED  THE  DEAD.  233 

take  care  of  his  room,  who,  as  soon  as  he  was  taken  ill, 
was  so  frightened  that  she  left  him  alone,  and  fled  to  the 
Washington  Irving  Hotel ;  but  danger  met  her  there,  for 
somebody  died  in  the  night,  and  she  fled  back  again,  only 
to  find  that  he  whom  she  had  forsaken  was  dead,  when  she 
too  was  stricken  down,  and  in  a  few  hours  died  also. 

Where  such  incidents  were  of  daily  occurrence,  it  was 
impossible  to  keep  down  the  panic.  The  terror  was  so 
great  that  it  even  stifled  the  affections  of  nature.  W"e  are 
wont  to  think  that  no  degree  of  danger  can  overcome  the 
instinct  of  maternity,  and  lead  a  mother  to  forsake  her  child. 
And  yet  the  cases  were  numerous  in  which  parents  fled 
from  their  homes,  leaving  their  offspring  to  die. 

Such  was  the  state  of  alarm,  that  it  was  hardly  possible 
to  bury  the  dead.  The  bodies  were  carried  to  some 
"  dumping-ground  "  and  thrown  in  heaps,  from  which  the 
stench  was  too  horrible  for  any  one  to  approach.  The 
police  were  powerless  to  enforce  the  common  decencies  of 
sepulture,  and  it  was  only  when  the  prisoners  were  taken 
out  of  the  jails,  and  the  soldiers  stood  over  them  with 
loaded  muskets,  that  pits  were  digged  in  which  the  putre- 
fying mass  of  humanity  was  buried  out  of  sight. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  Granada  in  August,  1885, 
and  such  the  scenes  that  presented  themselves  to  the  new 
Archbishop — scenes  that  would  shake  the  nerves  of  most 
men,  and  excite  an  uncontrollable  impulse  to  escape  to  a 
place  of  safety.  His  friends  begged  him  to  save  himself 
while  he  could.  To  all  such  entreaties  he  answered  with  a 
mildness  and  gentleness  that  are  the  best  indications  of  an 
unalterable  mind  :  "  It  is  not  my  own  safety  that  I  am  to 
consider  ;  I  do  not  belong  to  myself,  but  to  my  poor 
people  ;  and  if  they  ever  need  me,  they  need  me  now." 
Nor  did  he  think  it  enough  to  remain  in  the  city,  but  to 
seclude  himself  so  as  to  avoid  exposure  to  danger.  He 


234=  VISITS  TO  THE  SICK  AND  DYING. 

did  not  shut  himself  up  in  his  palace,  and  send  out  his 
priests  to  meet  dangers  which  he  did  not  dare  to  face.  In 
answer  to  my  inquiries  he  said  that,  when  he  was  a  young 
man,  he  had  been  a  student  in  the  University  of  Granada, 
and  at  that  time  became  familiar  with  its  streets  and 
by-ways,  so  that  he  did  not  need  any  guide  to  point  out 
the  plague-spots  of  the  city.  So  he  went  into  the  streets, 
not  courting  but  avoiding  observation,  for  which  he  often 
went  at  night  lest  the  people,  discovering  who  he  was, 
should  "  throng  him,"  and  thus  impede  his  efforts  for  their 
good.  In  the  silence  and  the  darkness  he  went  from 
street  to  street,  and  from  door  to  door,  entering  the  dwell- 
ings of  the  poor,  listening  to  their  pitiful  stories  of  misery, 
holding  the  hands  of  those  in  the  last  agony,  and  whisper- 
ing consolation  to  the  departing  soul.  If  anything  could 
take  awray  the  bitterness  of  death,  it  must  have  been  the 
benevolent  countenance  of  that  man  of  God  bending  over 
one's  pillow,  and  breathing  into  his  ear  the  words  of 
immortal  faith  and  hope  ! 

In  these  visits  to  the  dying  he  had  often  a  very  delicate, 
but  a  very  necessary,  duty  to  perform.  One  of  the  evils  of 
Spain  is  the  great  number  of  men  and  women  living  in 
the  family  relation  with  no  marriage  ties.  Such  he  found, 
about  to  leave  children  who  would  be  doubly  orphaned, 
as  they  would  be  left  not  only  with  no  title  to  an  inherit- 
ance from  their  parents,  but  with  none  even  to  their  very 
names !  This  brand  of  illegitimacy  it  was  in  his  power  by 
a  brief  service,  such  as  is  permitted  in  extremis,  to  remove  ; 
and  thus  by  a  few  words  spoken  in  the  death-chamber,  he 
gave  unspeakable  relief  to  the  dying  father  and  mother, 
while  he  secured  to  their  children  the  priceless  inheritance 
of  an  honorable  name. 

But  he  did  not  limit  himself  to  giving  spiritual  conso- 
lation. He  wished  to  save  the  lives  as  well  as  the  souls  of 


FEEDING  THE  HUNGRY.  235 

his  people.  They  were  not  only  in  need  of  medical  treat- 
ment, but  were  without  food.  As  the  panic  had  paralyzed 
all  business,  there  was  no  work  for  the  laboring  class,  by 
which  they  could  earn  their  daily  bread.  This  aggravated 
the  situation.  If  their  strength  was  reduced  by  the  want  of 
food,  they  would  fall  victims  to  the  slightest  attack.  Hence 
the  first  necessity  was  that  they  should  be  fed.  But  who 
could  feed  such  a  multitude  ?  This  required  money,  and 
a  great  deal  of  it.  But  gold  and  silver  he  had  none.  In 
this  extremity  he  told  me  that  he  had  thought  seriously  of 
selling  the  mitre  that  had  just  been  bestowed  upon  him. 
True,  it  was  not  worth  much,  but  he  thought  he  could 
perhaps  raise  five  hundred  francs  upon  it,  and  that  might 
save  some  precious  lives.  I  dare  say  some  whisper  of  his 
intention  got  abroad  ;  at  any  rate,  as  the  public  heard 
daily  of  the  horrors  of  the  cholera  in  Granada,  they  could 
not  but  hear  of  the  brave  fight  he  was  making  against  it, 
and  he  began  to  receive  contributions  from  different 
quarters — a  hundred  francs,  two  hundred,  five  hundred, 
a  thousand,  five  thousand,  and  in  one  instance  ten  thou- 
sand !  Thus  provided  with  the  needed  resources,  he  set 
about  administering  in  a  systematic  way  to  the  relief  of 
the  poor.  First  of  all,  like  his  Divine  Master,  he  fed  the 
multitude  ;  he  provided  an  abundant  supply  of  simple 
but  nourishing  food.  This  timely  nourishment,  with 
proper  medical  treatment,  checked  the  spread  of  the 
pestilence,  and  by-and-by  it  began  to  abate.  It  had 
broken  out  in  June,  and  culminated  in  August,  though 
it  continued  into  September.  By  the  last  of  that  month 
it  was  so  far  abated  as  to  be  under  control. 

But  now  came  a  new  source  of  anxiety.  The  people 
had  been  fed  and  kept  alive,  but  they  needed  also  to  be 
clothed,  for  they  were  extremely  destitute  ;  the  poor  were 
in  rags,  and  as  the  Autumn  drew  on;  and  the  nights  were 


236    KEEPING  CALM  AND  CALMING  OTHERS. 

chill  with  frost,  they  would  shiver  with  cold,  and  perhaps 
perish  at  the  first  blasts  of  the  approaching  Winter.  To 
avert  this  new  calamity,  the  Archbishop  wisely  devoted 
what  remained  of  the  contributions  in  his  hands,  to 
providing  them  with  warm  clothing.  Thus  having  cared 
for  "  his  poor  people "  to  the  last,  and  seen  them  warmed 
and  fed,  he  might  well  feel  that  he  "  had  done  his  duty," 
and  could  rest  from  his  long  labor. 

Such  was  the  story  of  the  cholera  of  1885,  as  I  learned 
it  from  many  sources,  and  as  it  was  at  last  told  me  with 
the  utmost  simplicity  by  the  Archbishop,  or  rather  as  I 
drew  it  from  him.  I  looked  at  him  with  wonder,  and 
asked  : 

"  How  did  you  feel  during  those  terrible  months  ? 
Were  you  attacked  with  cholera  ?  " 

'*  No,  never." 

"  How  did  you  guard  yourself  against  it  ?  " 

"  Partly  by  not  fearing  it.  My  constant  effort  was  to 
calm  myself  and  to  calm  others." 

In  further  explanation,  he  said  that  he  changed  very 
little  his  usual  course  of  life,  but  kept  up  his  regular  hab- 
its. He  ascribed  very  much  to  his  method,  by  which  he 
went  through  his  trying  duties  as  the  humblest  priest 
would  go  the  round  of  his  parish.  This  perfect  system 
kept  him  from  falling  into  any  confusion — being  bewil- 
dered by  the  varied  cares  that  were  thrown  upon  him.  It 
was  easy  to  see,  in  looking  at  that  placid  countenance, 
that  he  was  a  man  of  even  temper,  not  easily  thrown  off 
his  balance.  Thus  he  kept  a  calm  and  tranquil  mind  in 
the  midst  of  scenes  that  might  have  shaken  the  stoutest 
heart,  when  "  the  pestilence  was  walking  in  darkness,  and 
destruction  wasting  at  noonday."  This  serenity  in  the 
presence  of  danger  may  be  ascribed  in  part  to  tempera- 
ment, but  far  more  to  the  inward  religious  life  which 


11  GOD  ALONE  CARRIED  ME  THROUGH."  237 

filled  his  mind  with  "  the  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all 
understanding,"  so  that  he  could  go  forth  to  the  duties 
and  the  horrors  of  each  day  calm  and  undismayed. 

This  Divine  protection  and  aid  he  was  most  anxious 
to  recognize,  lest  I  should  ascribe  too  much  to  himself. 
"  No,"  he  said,  "  it  was  not  I  that  did  it,  but  a  Power  far 
above  me.  Mere  courage  is  not  enough  at  such  a  mo- 
ment, any  more  than  mere  physical  strength.  It  is  from 
no  feigned  humility,  but  from  the  deepest  conviction  of 
my  heart,  that  I  say,  It  was  GOD  alone  who  carried  me 
through." 

So  spake  the  good  Archbishop.  How  could  I  help 
loving  such  a  man  ?  Could  I  love  him  the  less  because  he 
was  a  Catholic  Archbishop,  instead  of  being  a  Protestant 
like  myself  ?  There  are  moments  in  which  all  differences 
disappear  in  the  presence  of  moral  greatness.  I  saw  be^ 
fore  me,  not  the  bishop  nor  the  priest,  but  only  an  illustri- 
ous example  of  courage  in  the  midst  of  appalling  dangers  ; 
of  calmness  in  the  midst  of  universal  agitation,  and  of 
supreme  devotion  to  duty.  In  the  presence  of  such 
heroism,  devoted  to  the  relief  of  human  suffering,  mere 
differences  of  creed  sink  out  of  sight.  I  looked  at  him 
with  a  feeling  of  affectionate  veneration  ;  and  when  at 
parting  he  followed  me  through  the  corridor  and  gave  me 
(with  a  patriarchal  embrace)  his  blessing,  I  was  glad  to 
receive  it  from  one  who  had  proved  himself  a  hero  in  the 
cause  of  humanity  as  well  as  a  true  Christian  bishop,  and 
shall  always  have  a  more  kindly  feeling  for  the  old  Church 
of  Spain  (proud  and  haughty  though  she  may  be)  when  I 
remember  that  she  has  given  such  a  splendid  example  of 
courage  and  devotion. 


CHAPTEE  XVIL 
PROTESTANTISM  AND  RELIGIOUS  LIBERTY. 

After  this  glowing  tribute  to  a  Catholic  Archbishop, 
and  a  chapter  on  Ignatius  Loyola,  and  the  descriptions 
of  Cathedrals  which  I  delight  in,  some  of  my  friends  in 
America  may  think  that  I  make  more  of  the  Roman  Cath- 
olic Church  in  Spain  than  of  Protestantism.  Of  course  I 
do,  and  for  the  best  of  all  reasons,  that  there  is  a  great 
deal  more  of  it.  The  ancient  Church  of  Spain  is  great 
and  powerful ;  Protestantism  is  but  a  grain  of  mustard- 
seed.  Yet  a  grain  of  seed  is  not  to  be  despised  :  for 
though  it  be  so  small  as  to  be  invisible  to  the  naked  eye, 
yet  it  has  in  it  the  essential  element  of  life,  with  "the 
promise  and  the  potency  "  of  great  things  to  come.  But 
for  the  present  Protestantism  in  Spain  is  cast  far  into  the 
shade  ;  and  yet  small  and  feeble  as  it  is,  it  is  not  only  a 
religious  but  a  political  force,  because  of  that  which  it 
represents,  and  for  which  it  stands — the  sacred  cause  of 
religious  liberty.  The  two  things  are  so  connected  that 
we  may  consider  them  together. 

In  the  conversations  with  Castelar,  he  had  much  to  say 
of  the  degree  of  personal  liberty  in  Spain  (a  subject  of 
which  he  likes  to  talk,  and  dwells  upon  fondly  and  proudly) 


FREEDOM  IN  GOING  OUT  AND  COMING  IN.         239 

— liberty  of  the  individual  in  his  movements  ;  liberty  of 
speech  and  of  the  press  ;  liberty  of  association  and  assem- 
bly, of  holding  meetings  for  any  lawful  purpose,  political 
or  religious,  which  of  course  includes  the  right  to  hold 
any  religious  faith,  and  to  celebrate  any  form  of  religious 
worship.  In  all  these  particulars  he  claimed  that  Spain 
was  as  free  as  any  State  in  Europe — as  free  as  Italy,  or 
France,  or  England,  or  even  our  own  dear  America ! 

This  is  a  proud  boast  to  make  ;  and  even  though  we 
may  not  be  able  to  go  quite  to  the  extent  of  the  eloquent 
Spaniard,  yet  there  is  enough  to  make  him  proud,  espe- 
cially as  he  contrasts  the  present  condition  of  his  country 
with  what  it  was  when  he  was  born.  To  begin  with,  every 
man  enjoys  a  great  degree  of  freedom  in  his  domicile, 
in  his  goings  out  and  his  comings  in.  In  some  countries 
of  Europe  a  man  is  so  constantly  under  the  surveillance  of 
the  police,  that  he  is  hampered  in  his  every  movement ; 
he  cannot  stir  out  of  his  native  village  without  a  passport 
in  his  pocket,  or  a  permit  from  the  civil  or  military 
authority.  To  some  extent  this  restriction  exists  in  Spain. 
Every  Spaniard  must  have  his  cedida,  or  official  certificate, 
to  show  who  he  is  and  where  he  lives,  without  which  he  is 
not  permitted  to  travel.  This  is  a  security  against  escape 
from  military  duty,  and  against  vagrancy,  no  unimportant 
thing  in  Spain  :  for  though  it  does  not  extirpate  the  race 
of  beggars,  it  keeps  the  beggars  at  home.  But  for  a  hard- 
working and  self-supporting  man,  there  is  very  little  re- 
striction on  his  movements.  Except  for  the  duty  of  mili- 
tary service  (to  which  he  is  liable  under  the  conscription 
in  Spain,  as  he  would  be  in  France  or  Germany),  he  is 
master  of  himself,  free  to  go  anywhere,  to  take  up  his 
residence  in  any  city,  or  make  his  home  in  any  province, 
where  he  can  sit  under  his  own  vine  and  fig-tree,  with 
none  to  molest  or  make  him  afraid. 


240  LIBERTY  OF  SPEECH. 

Next  to  this  liberty  of  the  person  is  the  liberty  of 
speech,  which  is  carried  to  the  greatest  extent.  A  Span- 
iard would  not  be  himself  if  he  could  not  talk.  Talk  he 
must,  and  talk  he  will.  And  he  will  not  mumble  to  him- 
self, but  he  must  talk  to  somebody  ;  and  not  merely  in  his 
own  house,  behind  closed  doors,  but  in  the  street,  wherever 
men  do  congregate.  In  Madrid  I  had  but  to  look  out  of 
my  windows  into  the  Puerta  del  Sol,  to  see  how  these 
Madrilenos  came  together  like  a  flock  of  pigeons,  or  rather, 
I  should  say,  like  a  flock  of  black  crows,  to  judge  from  the 
heavy  cloaks  in  which  they  wrap  their  Castilian  dignity. 
It  was  amusing  to  lean  out  of  the  window  and  hear  them 
talk.  How  they  did  jabber  !  Every  man  seemed  to  have 
muffled  up  in  his  cloak  some  secret  which  he  was  anxious 
to  impart  to  his  neighbor.  So  it  is  in  every  Spanish  city. 
Go  into  the  cafes,  and  see  them  seated  round  their  little 
tables,  and  every  instant  that  their  mouths  are  not  occu- 
pied in  eating  or  in  smoking,  they  are  kept  going  in  cease- 
less clatter.  Indeed  the  smoking  does  not  interfere  with 
it,  as  it  only  gives  opportunity  for  a  slight  pause  to  recover 
one's  breath,  when  the  conversation  goes  on  with  the  same 
volubility  as  before.  So  in  every  place  of  resort :  in  the 
corridors  and  boxes  of  the  opera  and  the  theatre,  in  the 
stalls  of  the  bull-ring,  at  the  porches  of  churches  and 
cathedrals,  do  the  Spaniards  exercise  the  freedom  of  their 
tongues ;  and  exercise  it  on  every  possible  subject,  private 
or  public,  religious  or  political.  The  right  to  "  speak  his 
mind"  is  the  birthright  of  every  Spaniard  as  of  every 
American. 

When  a  nation  has  secured  this  liberty  of  speech,  its 
next  demand  is  for  liberty  of  the  press,  and  this  too  is 
carried  in  Spain  quite  as  far  as  it  ought  to  be  in  any  coun- 
try— indocd  sometimes  beyond  the  bounds  of  decency.  A 
foreign  ambassador  in  Madrid  gave  me  this  as  his  opinion  : 


LIBERTY  OF  THE  PRESS.  241 

"If  the  journals  of  this  city  were  to  attack  the  Queen 
Regent  to-morrow,  not  merely  in  her  royal  prerogatives, 
but  personally  and  bitterly,  I  believe  the  offence,  however 
much  it  might  excite  popular  disgust,  would  pass  without 
arrest  or  trial,  or  punishment  of  any  kind."  Compare  this 
with  the  freedom,  or  want  of  freedom,  in  Germany.  What 
would  be  the  fate  of  a  journalist  in  Berlin,  who  should 
attack  the  Emperor  after  this  fashion,  or  even  his  powerful 
Minister?  But  I  must  confess  that  this  degree  of  free- 
dom is  not  to  me  a  matter  of  congratulation.  It  is 
carrying  liberty  far  beyond  what  I  wish  to  see  in  Spain 
or  anywhere.  American  as  I  am,  and  belonging  to  the 
press  as  I  do,  I  do  not  believe  in  the  liberty  of  unlimited 
abuse,  and  I  should  be  glad  to  see  such  outrages  upon 
decency  severely  punished.  I  do  not  therefore  speak  of 
this  freedom  of  the  press  as  approving  it,  but  only  to 
show  that  Spain  has  gone  so  far  towards  the  utmost 
degree  of  freedom,  that  she  has  even  the  very  excesses  of 
liberty. 

Kindred  to  the  right  of  speech  and  of  the  press,  is 
that  of  holding  public  meetings  and  discussing  political 
questions,  which  is  carried  perhaps  as  far  as  is  consistent 
with  public  tranquillity.  We  have  seen  the  freedom  of 
discussion  in  the  Cortes.  Nothing  could  be  more  out- 
spoken than  the  speeches  in  the  late  debate.  All  sorts  of 
political  opinions  were  openly  avowed — opinions  which,  if 
carried  into  action,  would  make  a  revolution  to-morrow. 
But  this  freedom  is  not  limited  to  Parliament :  it  shows 
itself  in  all  the  large  towns,  and  indeed  in  all  the  prov- 
inces, of  Spain.  I  have  been  told  that  months  before  the 
Cortes  met,  Republican  deputies  were  holding  public  meet- 
ings in  Catalonia,  in  which  they  almost  openly  preached 
armed  insurrection !  Surely  the  liberty  of  public  meet- 
ings and  of  unlicensed  speech,  could  no  farther  go. 


242  RELIGIOUS  LIBERTY. 

The  only  question  is  as  to  religious  liberty  :  freedom 
to  worship  God — that  freedom  which  our  fathers  sought 
in  the  forests  of  the  New  World.  Can  it  be  that  this  too 
has  come  in  Spain,  the  land  of  the  Inquisition  ?  To  some 
extent  it  has,  but  not  so  fully  as  liberty  in  other  matters. 
A  short  reference  to  recent  history  will  explain  the  present 
position  of  affairs. 

In  the  Kevolution  of  1868,  one  of  the  first  rights  demand- 
ed and  accorded  was  freedom  of  religious  faith  and  worship. 
The  Second  Article  of  the  Constitution  defines  the  attitude 
of  the  State  towards  Beligion.  It  begins  by  declaring  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  to  be  the  Established  Church  of 
Spain  :  "  The  Catholic  Apostolic  Roman  Religion  is  that 
of  the  State.  The  nation  assumes  the  obligation  of  main- 
taining its  worship  and  its  ministers." 

Of  course  this  is  not  "  liberty  and  equality  "  as  we 
understand  it  in  America  :  for  to  recognize  one  particular 
faith  and  form  of  worship  as  that  of  the  State,  is  to 
discriminate  against  all  others.  They  may  be  tolerated — 
they  may  even  be  protected ;  but  this  is  established ;  it 
is  incorporated  into  the  State  as  a  part  of  it,  to  be 
supported  by  its  revenues  as  much  as  the  Army  and 
Navy  i  it  is  invested  with  an  official  state  and  dignity  that 
can  belong  to  no  other  which  exists  merely  by  sufferance. 
This  is  an  inequality,  and  so  far  an  injustice. 

But  whatever  hardship  there  may  be  in  the  mere  fact 
of  an  Established  Church,  it  is  no  greater  in  Spain  than  in 
England.  If  we  are  to  be  branded  as  Dissenters,  what 
difference  does  it  make  whether  we  sit  under  the  shadow 
of  English  or  of  Spanish  cathedrals  ?  Protestants  have  no 
reason  to  complain  of  that  in  Spain  to  which  all  Dissenters 
have  to  submit  in  England — the  existence  of  an  Estab- 
lished Church  ;  nor  that  the  Church  should  be  the  one  to 
which  the  great  body  of  the  Spanish  people  belong. 


GUARANTEES  OF  THE  CONSTITUTION.  243 

Especially  is  the  burden  of  Nonconformity  lightened 
by  the  second  clause  in  this  Article  of  the  Constitution, 
which  reads  :  "  No  person  shall  be  molested  in  the  terri- 
tory of  Spain  for  his  religious  opinions,  nor  for  the 
exercise  of  his  particular  religious  worship,  saving  the 
respect  due  to  Christian  morality."  Better  and  better! 
We  could  hardly  frame  even  in  America  a  more  clear  and 
explicit  declaration  of  absolute  freedom  of  religious  belief 
and  worship.  If  the  principle  here  affirmed  could  be 
faithfully  carried  out,  Protestants  could  ask  no  more. 
But  this  edict  of  liberty  is  immediately  nullified,  at  least 
in  part,  by  that  which  follows  :  "  Nevertheless,  no  other 
ceremonies,  nor  manifestations  in  public,  will  be  permitted 
than  those  of  the  religion  of  the  State." 

Here  is  a  contradiction,  since  what  is  given  in  one 
sentence  is  withdrawn  in  the  next.  The  union  of  two 
such  clauses  in  the  same  Article,  discloses  the  difficulties 
with  which  the  framers  of  the  Constitution  had  to  contend. 
There  were  two  parties  in  the  Cortes  and  in  the  country  : 
the  party  of  progress  and  of  liberty,  and  the  party  of 
conservatism,  which  would  cling  to  everything  old — old 
rights,  old  privileges,  and  old  abuses — and  would  yield 
nothing  to  the  spirit  of  the  age  ;  and  like  other  framers 
of  laws  or  constitutions  or  political  platforms,  they  tried 
to  satisfy  both. 

The  only  way  of  reconciling  the  two  clauses  seems  to 
be  to  interpret  the  Article  as  meaning  that  dissenters  from 
the  Catholic  faith  may  hold  their  opinions  in  private,  with- 
out the  right  or  privilege  of  public  worship.  Such  was 
not  probably  the  intention  of  the  framers  of  the  Constitu- 
tion— for  they  could  hardly  have  meant  to  stultify  them- 
selves ;  but  it  is  a  construction  which  may  easily  be  put 
upon  the  clause  by  Cabinet  Ministers  or  local  magistrates 
who  wish  to  suppress  Protestant  worship.  The  only 


214  PETTY  RESTRICTIONS. 

security  against  this  is  in  having  Ministers  who  will 
interpret  it  in  its  liberal  sense,  and  who,  instead  of  being 
intimidated  by  the  clerical  outcry  against  toleration,  are 
sufficiently  independent  to  defend  and  maintain  the  free- 
dom guaranteed  by  the  Constitution. 

The  ambiguous  wording  of  the  Article  gives  oppor- 
tunity for  a  thousand  questions  to  arise,  which,  petty  as 
they  are,  are  none  the  less  annoying  and  troublesome, 
as,  for  example  :  some  years  ago  there  was  a  tempest  in 
a  teapot  in  the  island  of  Minorca  over  such  mighty 
questions  as  these  : 

"Whether  a  school-mistress  could  walk  in  public  with 
little  children  of  Protestant  families,  without  subjecting 
herself  to  rebuke  ?  " 

"  Whether  the  Sub-Governor  of  the  island  could  enter 
a  room  habitually  used  for  Protestant  worship  ?  " 

Elsewhere  the  public  mind  was  agitated  over  the 
momentous  questions : 

"  Whether  a  man  could  put  up  a  sign-board  to  indi- 
cate that  he  had  Bibles  to  sell? " 

"  Whether  a  peddler  in  Valladolid  could  cry  Bibles  in 
the  streets  ?  " 

"Whether  places  of  Protestant  worship  could  be  indi- 
cated by  such  undenominational  inscriptions  as  '  Church 
of  Christ'?" 

Of  course  the  more  bigoted  among  the  Catholics 
contended  for  a  rigid  interpretation  of  the  last  clause  in 
the  above  Article  ;  and  yet,  in  spite  of  this,  public  opinion 
was  so  strongly  in  favor  of  liberty  that  they  were  in  some 
degree  compelled  to  submit. 

How  far  religious  liberty  has  gone  under  the  present 
Constitution,  may  be  seen  here  in  Madrid,  where  there  are 
a  number  of  Protestant  places  of  worship.  These,  it 
should  be  said,  however,  are  in  part  attached  to  Foreign 


PROTESTANT  WORSHIP  IN   MADRID.  245 

Embassies,  and  exercise  the  right  of  public  worship  under 
their  protection.  But  this  is  not  always  the  case.  The 
English  Church,  for  example,  is  not  in  the  Embassy,  but 
in  a  dingy  room  in  the  second  story  of  an  old  palace, 
where  commonly  not  more  than  forty  or  fifty  persons 
meet  for  worship.  In  the  next  story  of  the  same  building 
is  a  service  in  Spanish,  conducted  by  Eev.  Mr.  Jameson, 
an  excellent  Scotch  missionary,  who  has  been  long  in 
Spain,  and  speaks  the  language  perfectly.  Here  perhaps 
a  hundred  and  fifty  assemble  on  a  Sunday  morning,  and 
the  service  is  conducted  with  great  apparent  devoutness, 
as  well  as  with  the  same  simplicity  of  worship  as  in  dear 
old  Scotland. 

At  the  same  time  there  is  a  service  in  German  by 
Pastor  Fliedner,  the  Chaplain  of  the  German  Embassy, 
and  other  services  by  Protestant  ministers  of  different 
countries  and  Churches.  All  these  are  conducted  openly, 
without  molestation  or  interference  —  a  freedom  which 
they  may  owe  in  part  to  the  presence  of  the  Foreign 
Embassadors.  But  the  pastors  are  not  restricted  to 
services  within  the  Embassies.  Pastor  Fliedner,  for 
example,  has  a  school  and  an  orphanage  in  another  part 
of  the  city,  into  which  he  gathers  poor  children,  and  thus 
does  the  work  done  by  the  devoted  missionaries  in  the 
poor  quarters  of  London  or  of  New  York. 

While  admiring  this  quiet  work  of  Christian  charity,  I 
was  curious  to  know  if  the  same  toleration  would  be 
extended  to  Protestant  worship  if  it  were  to  "blossom 
out "  in  some  more  conspicuous  form.  "  Suppose,"  I 
asked  Mr.  Jameson,  "  that  the  English  colony  in  Madrid 
were  to  become  so  large  and  wealthy  as  to  require,  not  a 
cathedral,  but  a  handsome  church,  which  they  wished  to 
erect  on  some  public  square  or  principal  street,  would 
they  be  allowed  to  build  it?"  He  answered  "I  thinl? 


246  THEY  COULD  NOT  RING  BELLS! 

they  would ;  although,"  he  added  after  a  moment's 
hesitation,  "  perhaps  they  would  not  be  permitted  to  ring 
bells  "  !  The  restriction  did  not  seem  to  me  so  important 
as  to  take  away  the  substantial  value  of  the  privilege. 
Indeed,  he  said  smiling,  a  Scotchman  could  hardly  com- 
plain when  it  was  only  recently  that  any  churches  in 
Scotland  could  have  bells,  except  those  of  the  old  Scotch 
Kirk.  He  could  not  well  ask  a  privilege  in  Spain  which 
he  could  not  have  obtained  in  his  own  country!  Our 
friends  could  afford  to  be  content  without  the  bells,  if 
they  could  have  the  church,  which  I  should  be  glad  to 
see  lifting  its  stately  front  on  the  Puerta  del  Sol  ;  or 
better  still,  on  the  Plaza  Major,  where  the  old  Catholic 
kings  used  to  sit  on  the  balcony  in  front  of  the  Koyal 
Palace,  and  watch  the  victims  of  the  Autos-da-Fe  as  they 
were  marched  into  the  square,  where  they  were  formally 
condemned  by  the  Holy  Office,  and  delivered  over  to  the 
civil  power  to  be  burned.  Here  let  it  stand  forever  as  a 
monument  of  religious  liberty ! 

But  even  though  such  a  monument  should  rise  in  the 
heart  of  Madrid,  and  tower  above  the  city,  it  would  have 
no  power  to  protect  Protestants  in  the  remoter  parts  of 
Spain.  The  Spanish  body  politic  (to  use  a  medical  phrase) 
has  a  very  feeble  circulation,  and  it  is  a  long  time  before 
the  blood  that  is  beating  at  the  heart  is  felt  at  the  extrem- 
ities. It  is  true  in  all  countries,  that  bad  magistrates 
make  good  laws  of  little  effect :  even  the  best  laws  may  be 
neutralized  to  some  extent  by  local  officials  who  are  hostile 
or  indifferent.  But  in  Spain  more  than  in  most  countries, 
the  local  administration,  to  which  is  left  the  enforcement 
of  the  laws,  is  very  slow  to  take  notice  of  any  offence  to 
Protestants,  and  so  they  are  subjected  to  frequent  annoy- 
ance in  the  suppression  of  their  schools,  and  interference 
with  their  worship. 


OPINION  OF  A  SPANISH  PROTESTANT.  247 

I  have  now  before  me  a  letter  from  a  Protestant  pastor 
in  Malaga,  one  of  the  best  informed  men  whom  I  found  in 
Spain,  in  which  he  does  not  see  things  in  the  rosy  light  so 
grateful  to  American  eyes,  that  welcome  whatever  bears 
the  sacred  name  of  liberty.  He  thinks  I  have  taken  a 
view  which  is  altogether  too  favorable.  As  I  believe  in 
looking  at  a  question  from  all  sides,  I  quote  his  very 
words,  translating  the  greater  part  of  his  letter : 

' '  You  have  been  captivated  by  the  fine  phrases  of  our  states- 
men, and  been  led  to  believe  that  there  is  as  much  liberty  here 
as  in  any  country  in  Europe.  Indeed,  to  hear  them  speak,  we 
are  the  freest  people  in  the  world ;  but  when  you  see  the  way  in 
which  they  understand  liberty,  and  the  little  respect  and  con- 
science which  they  have  in  the  execution  of  the  laws,  you  may  be 
led  to  think  differently. 

' '  You  know  that  religious  liberty  is  the  basis  of  all  liberty, 
and  to  judge  of  the  liberties  which  a  nation  has  obtained,  one 
needs  only  to  see  the  degree  of  religious  freedom  which  exists 
in  it.  In  this  respect  we  are,  with  the  exception  of  Kussia  and 
Turkey,  the  most  in  the  rear  [les  plus  arrieres}. 

"  The  Government  is  intolerant  in  religious  matters.  It  will 
never  stand  up  for  our  rights  against  the  abuses  committed  by 
the  local  authorities,  who  are  controlled  by  the  clergy.  They 
leave  us  in  peace  so  long  as  we  make  our  propaganda  more  or 
less  secretly ;  but  the  moment  that  the  priests  become  alarmed 
at  what  we  are  doing,  the  authorities  whom  they  control  annoy 
us  in  a  thousand  ways.  We  appeal  to  the  laws,  and  are  told  that 
the  Kornan  Catholic  is  the  Established  Church,  and  that  the  laws 
are  made  for  them  !  We  should  have  a  fine  time  in  making  recla- 
mations against  these  unjust  decisions.  They  will  always  find 
means  to  declare  us  guilty,  and  to  absolve  our  persecutors. 

"  I  am  a  Spaniard,  and  I  love  my  country ;  but  I  must  confess 
that  here  no  respect  is  paid  to  the  laws,  except  as  it  may  suit  the 
pleasure  of  the  authorities,  because  you  cannot  find  a  people 
whoso  conscience  is  so  thoroughly  cauterized.  Hence  the  com- 
mon saying  which  they  have  in  Spain,  that  '  The  laws  are  made 
to  be  broken,  and  not  to  be  obeyed  ' ! 

"  Compare  the  state  of  Spain  with  that  of  Italy.    There  the 


248  OPPOSITION  TO  RELIGIOUS  LIBERTY. 

Government  causes  the  laws  to  be  respected.  One  sees  Protest- 
ants in  the  Parliament,  judges  in  the  tribunals,  and  professors  in 
the  State  schools.  In  Spain  that  is  impossible.  In  the  greater 
part  of  our  Normal  Schools,  any  one  who  declared  himself  a 
Protestant  could  not  obtain  a  diploma  as  a  teacher.  It  is  true 
that  in  Madrid  there  is  no  difficulty  in  this  respect,  but  it  is 
because  of  the  presence  of  the  Foreign  Embassies.  In  vain  do 
you  make  any  reclamation  against  this :  you  will  lose  your  time 
and  your  money.  No,  Monsieur,  do  not  believe  that  we  have  the 
same  liberty  here  that  you  have  in  the  United  States.  Would  to 
God  that  it  were  so  !  Our  statesmen  make  a  parade  of  their  love 
of  liberty,  but  that  amounts  to  nothing :  they  had  rather  make 
their  boasts  in  the  Cortes  than  work  to  give  us  real  practical 
liberty. 

"We  in  Spain  are  making  some  progress.  We  march  for- 
wards, but  very  slowly,  and  in  spite  of  our  Governments." 

This  is  not  a  cheering  report.  It  is  in  strong  contrast 
to  the  glowing  pictures  of  Spanish  liberty  which  Castelar 
presented  to  our  American  eyes.  But  perhaps  both 
representations  should  be  accepted  with  some  reserve. 
If  one  be  too  bright,  the  other  may  be  too  dark.  Every 
man  sees  things  with  his  own  eyes,  and  according  to  his 
own  experience.  Our  friend  in  Malaga  has  doubtless 
suffered  many  personal  annoyances.  Other  Protestant 
pastors  could  tell  a  similar  tale,  for  which  he  and  they 
may  well  be  indignant  that  such  things  can  be  permitted 
in  a  country  that  professes  to  have  adopted  the  principle 
of  complete  religious  liberty. 

To  Americans  the  surprise  is  still  greater,  for  they 
cannot  understand  it ;  they  can  hardly  credit  the  possi- 
bility of  such  narrowness  and  bigotry.  To  such  I  can 
only  say,  You  have  never  been  in  Spain.  Spain  is  not 
America.  It  is  an  old  country,  and  with  all  that  is  grand 
and  venerable  in  age — old  cities  and  old  monuments,  old 
laws  and  institutions — has  also  the  weaknesses  of  age,  its 
pride  in  clinging  to  the  past,  and  its  scorn  of  ah1  things 


A  DEFENDER  OF  THE  INQUISITION.  249 

new.  Spain  can  never  forget  that  it  once  had  the  fore- 
most place  in  Europe,  and  though  it  has  lost  its  position, 
it  has  not  lost  its  pride.  In  this  the  Church  of  Spain  is  a 
part  of  Spain  itself  ;  it  is  proud  and  haughty,  as  is  natural 
to  a  power  that  has  been  wont  to  trample  on  its  enemies, 
and  that  would  gladly  trample  on  them  still.  These  things 
we  must  take  as  they  are.  With  all  that  is  good  in  Spain, 
with  all  that  is  full  of  promise  and  of  hope,  there  is  still 
much  which  belongs  to  another  age  than  ours  ;  which 
savors  of  the  old  dark  days  of  Spanish  tyranny ;  which 
reminds  us  that  we  are  in  the  land  of  the  Inquisition, 
where  Torquemada  has  still  successors. 

Indeed  the  Inquisition  is  not  quite  dead  in  Spain. 
True,  the  Holy  Office  is  closed  ;  its  prison-doors  no  longer 
open  for  heretics  ;  its  dungeons  no  longer  smother  the 
groans  of  its  unhappy  victims.  But  the  spirit  of  an  institu- 
tion may  survive  the  institution  itself  ;  and  it  can  hardly 
be  said  that  the  Inquisition  is  wholly  dead  so  long  as  it  has 
defenders.  Yet  such  it  has,  as  a  recent  incident  proves. 
A  few  years  since,  on  the  two  hundredth  anniversary  of 
the  death  of  Calderon  de  la  Barca,  the  Shakespeare  of 
Spain,  there  was  a  celebration  in  Madrid  in  his  honor. 
The  occasion  attracted  much  attention  from  literary  men 
throughout  Europe,  many  of  whom  were  invited  to  be 
present.  Among  those  who  answered  to  the  invitation 
were  several  German  professors.  Yet  at  this  international 
celebration,  in  an  assemblage  from  all  countries,  there 
rose  one  who  did  not  hesitate  to  offer  a  toast  to  "  The 
Inquisition  " !  Nor  was  this  as  a  jest,  nor  in  mere  brava- 
do, but  in  grim  earnest  ;  nor  did  he  withdraw  it  when  he 
heard  the  indignant  murmurs  of  those  around  him,  but 
stood  by  his  position,  and  had  the  effrontery  to  say,  in  the 
presence  of  the  representatives  of  Northern  literature  and 
learning,  that  "Spain  must  be  forever  grateful  to  the 


250  A  PROFESSOR  IN  THE  UNIVERSITY. 

House  of  Austria  and  tlie  House  of  Bourbon,  which  had 
saved  her  from  German  barbarism  "  ! 

"  But  surely,"  you  will  say,  "  this  must  have  been  some 
lunatic  escaped  from  an  asylum — some  Spanish  night-owl 
hooting  among  the  ruins  of  ancient  towers !  "  Not  a  bit 
of  it.  It  was  the  distinguished  Professor  of  Spanish  Lit- 
erature in  the  University  of  Madrid,  who  knew  what  he  was 
talking  about  as  well  as  any  man  in  Spain,  and  to  whom  a 
German  Protestant  Professor  pays  the  highest  tribute  for 
the  extent  of  his  learning  and  the  purity  of  his  character.* 

If  such  be  the  lessons  taught  in  high  places  by  men  of 
learning  and  devout  Christian  character,  what  can  be  ex- 
pected of  the  lower  class  of  priests,  who  are  as  fanatical  as 
they  are  ignorant? 

*  Edward  Boehmer,  Emeritus  Professor  in  the  University  of 
Strasburg,  in  the  Preface  to  his  great  work,  "  SPANISH  REFORM- 
ERS OF  Two  CENTURIES  FROM  1520,"  says : 

"Doubtless  Menendez  Pelayo  is  the  best-read  and  best-in- 
formed man  in  Spain  as  to  the  literature  of  the  evangelical  move- 
ment amongst  his  countrymen ;  there  is  no  one  who  could  claim 
to  rank  with  him.  He  has  varied  learning,  vindicates  morality, 
and  is  a  man  stamped  with  firm  religious  principles.  A  master 
in  his  own  language,  he  does  not  hesitate  to  avow  his  admiration 
of  the  purity  and  energy  of  expression  in  the  Spanish  works  of 
men  to  whom  he  is  opposed.  I  could  almost  apply  to  him  the 
language  of  an  old  French  poet,  who,  speaking  of  a  noble  war- 
rior opposed  to  Charlemagne,  exclaimed:  'My  God!  what  a 
champion  he  would  be,  if  he  were  but  a  Christian  ! ' ' 

This  Professor  in  the  University  of  Madrid  is  the  author  of  a 
work  in  three  large  octavo  volumes,  of  the  size  of  Prcscott's 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  on  THE  SPANISH  HERETICS.  The  title 
in  Spanish  is  "  HISTORIA  DE  LOS  HETERODOXOS  ESPANOLES  :  Par 
el  Doctor  Don  Marcelino  Menendez  Pelayo,  Catedratico  de  Liter- 
atura  Espauola  en  la  Universidad  de  Madrid."  The  spirit  of  the 
workjis  indicated  in  the  text  quoted  on  the  titlepage  :  "Ex  nolis 
prodierunt,  sed  non  erant  ex  nobis"  (1  John  ii.  19) — "They  went 
out  from  us,  but  they  were  not  of  us." 


SPANISH  PROTESTANTS.  251 

The  question  of  religious  liberty  in  Spain  is  not  merely 
an  abstract  question  of  politics,  debated  nowhere  but  in 
the  Cortes  :  it  is  a  practical  one,  as  it  bears  directly  upon 
the  rights  and  privileges  of  Protestants,  who,  though 
insignificant  in  numbers  as  compared  with  the  whole 
population  of  the  country,  are  yet  enough  to  put  to 
the  test  the  reality  of  Spanish  law  and  Spanish  justice  ; 
to  show  whether  the  clause  in  the  Constitution  which 
reads  "No  person  in  the  territory  of  Spain  shall  be 
molested  for  his  religious  opinions,  nor  for  the  exercise 
of  his  particular  religious  worship,  saving  the  respect 
due  to  Christian  morality,"  is  a  mere  flourish  of  words, 
a  bit  of  Castilian  grandiloquence,  or  is  indeed  a  part  of  the 
fundamental  law  of  Spain. 

To  this  question,  or  any  question  about  the  rights  of 
Protestants,  some  of  the  old  hidalgos  might  reply,  as 
Narvaez  on  his  deathbed  answered  his  confessor  when 
asked  if  he  forgave  his  enemies,  that  "  he  did  not  know 
of  any  who  were  left :  that  he  thought  he  had  killed  them 
all " !  The  Inquisition  did  its  bloody  work  so  effectively, 
that  Spaniards  may  well  think  that  the  whole  race  of 
Reformers  was  exterminated.  But,  as  in  France  still 
survive  descendants  of  the  Huguenots,  so  here  in  parts  of 
the  country  may  be  found  a  few  scattered  descendants  of 
men  who  escaped  the  rack  or  the  flames,  and  who  cling  to 
Spain  as  the  land  of  their  fathers.  They  have  forfeited  no 
right  by  reason  of  the  cruelties  visited  upon  a  past  genera- 
tion. They  are  not  aliens  in  the  land.  They  are  as  true 
Spaniards  as  those  of  the  bluest  blood,  and  have  as  good  a 
right  here  as  any  grandee  of  Castile  or  Arragon,  and  a  far 
better  right  than  the  foreign  princes  or  princesses  who 
have  been  transformed  into  Spanish  kings  and  queens. 
The  excellent  Queen  Regent  who  now  occupies  the  Royal 
Palace  in  Madrid,  was  born  on  the  banks  of  the  Danube. 


252  THEIR  RIGHTS  IN  THE  COUNTRY. 

Surely  those  who  are  of  direct  Spanish  descent,  even 
though  they  be  of  Protestant  faith,  have  as  good  a  right 
to  their  native  land  as  any  Austrian  or  Bourbon  that  has 
been  imported  to  rule  over  them.  If  the  Protestants  are 
few  in  number,  it  is  no  fault  of  theirs,  but  because  three 
hundred  years  ago  tens  of  thousands  of  the  Eeformed 
faith  were  burned  at  the  stake.  Such  wholesale  massacres 
could  not  take  away  the  rights  of  those  who  escaped,  or  of 
their  descendants.  On  the  contrary,  these  may  claim  a 
better  title  in  a  country  for  which  their  ancestors  suffered 
the  loss  of  all  things.  As  they  read  the  paternal  names  on 
the  roll  of  Spanish  martyrs,  they  may  well  feel  that  they 
have  a  sacred  inheritance  in  the  land  wkich  their  fathers 
watered  with  their  blood. 

The  Spanish  Protestants,  like  the  French  Huguenots, 
have  a  proud  history  to  look  back  upon.  No  chapter  of 
the  Great  Reformation  is  more  tragic,  and  yet  more  full  of 
heroic  endurance,  than  the  Reformation  in  Spain.  Where- 
fore there  is  no  reason  why  the  remnant  need  to  be  so  very 
humble  in  the  presence  of  their  persecutors.  They  are 
not  of  an  inferior  or  a  subject  race,  who  have  to  ask 
permission  of  their  Catholic  masters  to  remain  in  their 
native  land.  Here  they  were  born,  and  here,  by  God's 
help,  they  mean  to  live  and  to  die. 

But  let  me  not  do  injustice  to  Spanish  Catholics,  the 
more  liberal  of  whom,  I  presume,  would  not  wish  to 
deprive  their  Protestant  countrymen  of  their  rights.  Still 
their  pride  might  take  offence  at  the  idea  that  Catholic 
Spain  should  be  considered  missionary  ground,  to  which 
men  of  other  countries  may  come  to  make  proselytes. 
But  what  is  Spain  herself  doing  when  she  sends  her  monks 
and  priests  to  America?  She  can  hardly  object  to  our 
showing  a  little  of  the  missionary  zeal  of  which  she  has 
given  us  the  example, 


A  QUESTION  OF  PRUDENCE.  253 

But  the  question  of  right  is  not  the  only  one  :  there  is 
a  question  of  wisdom  and  prudence.  There  is  a  mode  of 
proselytism  which  not  only  does  no  good,  but  is  positively 
mischievous,  as  it  only  stirs  up  bitterness.  If  the  sending 
of  missionaries  to  Spain  is  to  be  the  occasion  of  angry 
feuds  among  the  Spanish  people,  it  will  do  more  harm 
than  good.  Is  there,  then,  any  legitimate  work  for 
Protestantism  in  this  country,  which  it  may  do  without 
seeming  to  be  an  intruder,  or  stirring  up  needless  strife  ? 
I  think  there  is,  as  I  will  try  to  indicate. 

The  work  of  proselytism  in  a  foreign  country,  is  one 
that  naturally  awakens  prejudice  and  provokes  hostility, 
especially  among  a  people  like  the  Spaniards,  who  are 
proud  and  sensitive  to  intrusion  of  any  kind  upon  what 
they  regard  as  their  own  exclusive  domain.  Wherefore  it 
would  seem  a  first  point  of  wisdom  in  those  who  come 
from  abroad  to  begin  missionary  work  among  them,  to 
avoid,  so  far  as  may  be,  controversy  with  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church.  Here  I  know  I  touch  a  tender  point.  Some  tell 
me  that  to  take  away  from  them  this  "  privilege,"  <would 
be  to  take  away  their  own  right  of  existence.  "  What," 
they  say,  "are  we  here  for?  What  good  reason  can  we 
give  except  that  the  Church  of  Spain  is  so  corrupt  that 
the  country  needs  a  purer  form  of  Christianity  ?  "  Espe- 
cially the  younger  men,  who  are  very  brave,  and  feel 
strong  in  their  Protestant  faith  founded  on  the  Bible,  are 
rather  eager  for  combat.  They  think  it  the  best  way  to 
inaugurate  their  mission,  and  call  attention  to  their  work, 
to  make  a  direct  attack  on  the  Roman  Catholic  Church, 
exposing  its  superstitions,  and  even  assailing  its  priests 
and  bishops.  No  doubt  it  is  a  way  to  make  themselves 
conspicuous,  and  attract  public  attention  ;  but  whether 
the  result  will  be  to  render  the  people  more  willing  to 
listen  to  the  truth,  is  another  question. 


254         POPULAR  FEELING  AGAINST  THE  PRIESTS. 

Of  course  there  are  occasions  when  there  is  no  alterna- 
tive ;  when  the  Protestant  faith  is  held  up  as  a  compound 
of  heresy  and  blasphemy,  and  the  missionaries  themselves 
are  assailed  as  if  they  were  intruders  in  the  country,  and 
mischief-makers  among  the  people.  Then  surely  they  can 
claim  the  sacred  right  of  self-defence,  and  are  free  to  bear 
their  part  in  a  war  which  they  did  not  begin.  But  that  is 
quite  another  thing  from  dashing  into  the  arena,  and  throw- 
ing down  the  gage  of  battle.  The  latter  course,  however 
courageous  it  may  appear,  I  cannot  but  think  mistaken. 

In  the  first  place,  to  begin  with  the  lowest  motive,  if 
the  object  were  to  discredit  the  Church  of  Spain  and  its 
priesthood,  that  work  of  destruction  is  likely  to  be  done, 
and  will  be  done,  if  done  at  all,  by  the  Spaniards  them- 
selves, without  any  meddling  from  outsiders.  Already  the 
attitude  of  the  educated  men  of  this  country,  though  not 
so  far  advanced,  is  not  altogether  unlike  that  of  the  edu- 
cated men  of  France.  Here,  as  there,  there  is  a  great 
contempt  for  the  superstitions  of  the  Church.  Nothing 
do  the*people  enjoy  more  than  hits  at  the  lower  order  of 
priests,  with  their  coarse,  sensual  faces,  made  more  offen- 
sive by  their  pretensions  of  spirituality.  There  is  a  paper 
published  in  Madrid  called  "  El  Motin,"  the  staple  of  which 
is  caricature  of  the  priests  in  all  possible  forms.  Half  a 
dozen  copies  are  now  before  me,  in  which  they  are  repre- 
sented as  gross  and  vulgar  to  the  last  degree  ;  as  sanctimo- 
nious hypocrites,  turning  up  their  eyes  to  heaven  as  if  they 
were  very  devout,  while  in  the  corners  of  those  eyes  is  the 
disgusting  leer  of  sensuality.  I  am  amazed  that  such  car- 
icatures can  be  permitted  in  a  Catholic  country.  Yet  here 
they  are.  The  paper  appears  every  week,  and  has  a  large 
circulation.  It  is  a  perpetual  thorn  in  the  side  of  the 
clerical  party,  and  many  efforts  have  been  made  to  sup- 
press it,  but  without  success.  So  in  the  clubs,  as  at  the 


LET  SPANIARDS  FIGHT  THEIR  OWN  BATTLES.       255 

Atheneum  in  Madrid,  every  hit  at  the  priests  is  received 
with  peals  of  laughter. 

While  I  refer  to  these  things,  I  beg  not  to  be  misunder- 
stood, as  if  I  felt  a  secret  joy  that  the  Catholic  Church  of 
Spain  should  be  thus  discredited  and  disgraced.  Far  from 
it.  On  the  contrary,  I  regret  that  dishonor  should  thereby 
be  brought  upon  our  common  Christianity.  But  I  do  say  : 
If  that  Church  is  to  be  attacked,  let  it  be  by  men  of  its 
own  race  and  nation.  Let  Spaniards  fight  their  own  bat- 
tles :  they  will  not  thank  us  for  meddling  in  them.  If  the 
priests  are  to  be  ridiculed  out  of  Spain,  let  it  be  by  the  wit 
of  the  countrymen  of  Cervantes,  not  by  the  more  clumsy 
efforts  of  men  who  speak  another  language,  and  know 
little  of  the  proud  susceptibilities  of  the  Spanish  race. 

It  is  here  that  we  must  draw  the  line  of  prudence  and 
caution  against  over-zeal  in  proselyting,  understanding 
that  Spaniards  will  take  from  their  own  countrymen  what 
they  will  not  take  from  us.  We  must  not  presume  too  much 
because  we  see  them  making  fun  of  the  priests.  That  is  a 
pastime  which  they  reserve  to  themselves,  and  the  stranger, 
if  he  is  wise,  will  not  intermeddle  therewith.  If  he  does, 
he  will  be  quickly  undeceived.  If,  for  example,  a  foreigner, 
an  Englishman  or  an  American,  encouraged  by  these 
demonstrations  in  the  Atheneum  Club,  or  in  any  public 
assembly,  were  to  rise  and  proceed  to  declare  that  Pro- 
testantism was  a  better  form  of  Christianity,  the  audience 
would  be  silent — there  would  be  no  response  ;  and  if  he 
were  to  assort  that  the  Spaniards  themselves  did  not  be- 
lieve in  the  Catholic  Church,  they  would  indignantly  deny 
it!  Here  then  is  a  singular  condition  of  the  educated 
classes  :  they  have  lost  their  old  belief,  and  have  not  found 
a  new  one.  And  yet  with  the  Spanish  tenacity  in  holding 
to  what  they  have  received  by  tradition,  they  cling  to  the 
ancient  Church,  declaring  that  it  is  the  Church  of  the 


256  WHAT  PROTESTANTS  CAN  DO. 

State,  in  which  their  fathers  lived  and  died,  and  in  which 
they  too  will  live  and  die.  To  approach  a  great  people  in 
such  a  state  of  mind,  when  they  do  not  ask  our  advice 
either  in  politics  or  religion,  requires  all  one's  tact,  patience, 
and  skill.  It  is  not  courage  that  is  wanted,  so  much  as  that 
wisdom  without  which  courage  is  thrown  away. 

Perhaps  some  of  my  friends  in  Spain  will  receive  these 
cautions  with  a  degree  of  impatience,  and  ask  "  "What  then 
is  there  left  for  us  to  do  ?  "  I  beg  their  pardon  for  seem- 
ing to  give  advice,  or  even  making  a  suggestion,  to  men 
who  are  far  better  informed  than  I ;  and  yet,  if  I  may 
presume  upon  the  freedom  which  ought  always  to  exist 
among  brethren,  I  would  say  to  them,  as  a  great  man, 
when  dying,  said  to  his  son  :  "  Do  all  the  good  you  can  in 
the  world,  but  make  as  little  noise  about  it  as  possible." 
Begin  with  the  utmost  quietness,  shunning  notoriety 
rather  than  seeking  it.  Be  content  to  make  your  work 
among  the  humble  and  the  lowly.  It  was  here  that 
Christianity  gained  its  first  victories.  Feed  the  hungry 
and  clothe  the  naked  ;  gather  the  poor  children  out  of  the 
slums  into  your  orphanages  and  your  schools.  Thus  you 
will  preach  the  Gospel  in  the  most  effectual  way  by  living 
it.  Prove  the  purity  of  your  doctrines  by  the  purity  of 
your  lives,  and  you  will  by-and-by  disarm  prejudice  and 
win  confidence.  This  much  many  of  you  have  already 
gained,  of  whom  I  have  heard  even  Catholics  speak  with  the 
highest  respect.  They  find  that  the  strangers  whom  they 
had  been  taught  to  regard  as  emissaries  of  evil,  are,  on 
the  contrary,  excellent  fathers  and  mothers,  sons,  brothers, 
and  sisters,  whom  they  are  glad  to  have  come  and  live 
among  them.  This  in  itself  is  no  small  achievement. 

But  some  will  think  this  is  working  in  a  very  slow  way ; 
and  if  they  are  missionaries  from  the  other  side  of  the 
ocean,  they  are  likely  to  have  a  fire  in  the  rear,  in  the  half- 


A  PAPAL  NOT  A  PAGAN  COUNTRY.  257 

curious,  half-complaining,  inquiries  of  a  constituency  which 
is  impatient  for  immediate  results.  Americans  must  do 
everything  on  a  grand  scale.  They  expect  to  see  "a 
nation  born  in  a  day."  Some  of  them  already  ask  me 
"  When  is  Spain  to  become  Protestant  ?  "  To  this  I  have 
a  short  answer  :  in  my  opinion,  NEVER  !  At  this  they  are 
very  much  taken  aback,  and  feel  almost  as  if  the  plans  of 
the  Almighty  were  going  to  be  defeated.  They  can  see 
in  that  Church  nothing  but  evil,  and  cry  out  against  it  : 
"  O  Babylon,  that  art  to  be  destroyed ! "  If  they  could 
have  their  way,  they  would  gladly  see  the  earth  open 
under  it,  as  it  did  under  Korah,  Dathan,  and  Abiram, 
that  it  might  "go  down  quick  into  hell."  But  in  this 
feeling  I  do  not  share,  because  I  make  a  distinction 
between  a  Papal  and  a  Pagan  country,  and  do  not  con- 
sider sending  missionaries  among  Spanish  Catholics  quite 
the  same  as  sending  them  among  the  heathen.  With  all 
the  errors  and  superstitions  of  the  Church  of  Kome,  it  is 
still  a  part  of  Christendom.  It  has  the  faith  of  the  early 
ages,  which  to  some  extent  at  least  still  bears  its  blessed 
fruit.  I  have  asked  the  most  zealous  of  Protestant  mis- 
sionaries, "Are  there  not  some  of  the  Catholics  whom  you 
would  recognize  as  sincere  Christians  ?  "  "  Oh  yes,"  they 
answer,  "no  doubt  there  are  such,"  although  they  make 
the  number  but  small,  and  say  that  even  these  are  ignorant 
and  superstitious.  But  that  is  better  than  nothing  ;  it  is 
better  to  have  a  small  remnant,  a  few  who  are  simple- 
minded,  humble,  and  devout,  than  to  have  none  ;  and  the 
Church  in  w^hich  such  piety  is  nurtured,  is  not  to  be 
lightly  overturned.  So  long  as  the  Church  of  Spain  is 
the  only  Church  its  people  know,  it  is  safer  not  to  lay 
rude  hands  upon  it.  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  see  it 
destroyed,  unless  there  were  something  better  to  take  its 
place.  If  the  Catholic  Church  were  swept  out  of  existence. 


T1IK  PROTESTANT  SCHOOLS. 

Spain  would  not  become  Protestant  :  it  would  become 
Infidel,  and  the  last  state  of  that  country  would  be  worse 
than  the  first. 

"  Then/'  say  some,  dispirited,  "  we  may  as  well  shut  up 
our  churches  and  our  schools,  and  go  home."  By  no 
means.  There  is  a  right  way  and  a  wrong  way  to  do 
everything.  Because  one  course  may  be  mistaken,  it  does 
not  follow  that  another  may  not  be  wise,  judicious,  and 
successful.  Between  these  two  opposite  courses — a  zeal 
without  knowledge  on  the  one  hand,  and  inactivity  and 
indifference  on  the  other — is  there  not  a  wise,  dignified, 
and  conciliatory  course,  in  which  there  is  no  sacrifice  of 
principle  or  of  dignity,  by  which  Protestant  missionaries 
may  accomplish  the  greatest  amount  of  good,  with  the 
least  amount  of  evil?  I  think  there  is,  and  the  best  proof 
of  it  is  in  what  the  missionaries  have  actually  done :  for  in 
the  main  they  have  been  very  wise  and  discreet  Since  I 
have  been  in  Spain,  I  have  seen  the  beginnings  of 
Protestant  missions  in  different  places.  They  are  all  very 
modest,  and  not  of  a  character  to  excite  alarm.  Each  has 
as  its  nucleus  a  little  church  to  which  is  attached  a  school, 
sometimes  several  schools.  The  children  are  generally 
from  the  very  poor,  who  receive,  with  religions  instruction, 
the  rudiments  of  what  we  in  America  would  call  a 
common  school  education.  Sometimes  girls  are  taught 
various  industries  by  which  they  may  earn  a  living.  They 
are  plainly  and  yet  decently  clothed,  and  the  school  is  a 
model  of  neatness  and  order.  No  visitor  can  fail  to  be 
touched  by  the  devotion  of  the  teachers  and  the  eagerness 
of  the  children  to  learn.  It  is  the  first  time  that  many  of 
these  little  waifs  have  had  experience  of  such  tender: 
and  when  they  join  in  singing  the  simple  hymns,  and  in 
repeating  together  "Our  Father  who  art  in  heaven."  who 
can  doubt  that  there  is  One  who  listens  to  the  cry  of  these 


REACTION"  OX  THE  CATHOLIC  CHURCH.  259 

homeless,  fatherless  children  ?  Such  a  school  is  a  centre 
of  civilization,  and  if  it  could  be  multiplied  by  hundreds 
and  thousands  all  over  Spain,  they  would  transform  the 
character  of  the  next  generation. 

This  is  a  work  of  Christian  charity,  to  which  the  most 
bigoted  Catholics  cannot  object.  If  they  do,  we  have 
only  to  say  to  them,  "  Go  and  do  likewise ! "  Some  have 
already  followed  the  excellent  example.  Herein  is  one 
important,  though  incidental,  effect  of  Protestant  mis- 
sions, in  the  reaction  upon  the  Catholic  Church  itself.  In 
Spain,  as  in  many  other  countries  where  one  great  Church 
has  had  undisputed  mastery  of  the  field,  it  has  grown  neg- 
ligent, and  a  rebuke  or  an  example  from  the  humblest 
quarter  has  quickened  it  into  new  life.  In  many  places  I 
was  told  that  the  establishment  of  Protestant  schools  had 
been  followed  by  the  opening  of  Catholic  schools.  So 
much  the  better.  The  more  knowledge  is  spread  abroad, 
the  better  it  will  be  for  the  country. 

The  subject  is  a  very  large  one,  which  I  have  intro- 
duced merely  to  offer  these  suggestions.  The  position  of 
Protestantism  in  Spain  is  a  very  difficult  one.  It  is  a  small 
minority  in  the  presence  of  a  large,  powerful,  and  arrogant 
majority — a  majority  that  bears  it  no  good  will,  and  would 
gladly  trample  it  out  of  existence.  And  yet  it  by  no  means 
follows  that  its  influence  is  insignificant.  The  power  of  a 
minority — even  of  a  small  minority — is  sometimes  very 
great.  It  is  a  check  upon  the  larger  body,  keeping  it  from 
many  things  which  it  ought  not  to  do  ;  while  it  spurs  it  to 
do  many  things  which  otherwise  it  would  not  have  done. 

Of  course  the  position  of  a  Protestant  pastor  is  one  to 
try  not  only  his  courage,  but  his  patience  and  forbearance. 
He  comes  into  a  community  with  no  purpose  but  to  do 
good,  and  finds  himself  an  object  of  suspicion.  Knowing 
how  unjust  this  is,  he  feels  that  it  is  very  cruel,  and  is 


260  PROTESTANT  PASTORS  IN  SPAIN. 

tempted  to  resent  it.  But  lie  should  remember  that  it  is 
generally  the  effect  of  ignorance,  and  that  the  only  way  to 
meet  it  is  to  live  it  down.  If  he  can  only  control  himself 
at  such  a  time,  and  "forbear  threatening,"  he  is  sure  in  the 
end  to  gain  the  victory.  It  is  not  in  any  people — not  even 
in  the  Spaniards,  reserved  and  distant  as  they  are — to  dis- 
like one  who  is  trying  only  to  do  them  good.  Continued 
kindness,  with  tact  and  patience,  will  conquer  obstacles 
that  no  amount  of  courage  and  fiery  zeal  could  beat  down. 
In  the  few  weeks  that  I  have  been  in  Spain,  I  have 
become  very  much  attracted  to  the  Protestant  pastors 
whom  I  have  met.  They  are  a  noble  body  of  men, 
occupying  a  position  of  great  difficulty,  with  a  spirit  and 
courage  that  are  admirable.  They  are  worthy  of  all  the 
confidence  of  their  supporters  in  England  and  America, 
who  will  not  be  disappointed  in  their  representatives, 
if  they  do  not  expect  too  much,  entertaining  ideas  and  hopes 
which  are  exaggerated  and  absurd.  Spain  is  a  slow 
country.  Everything  moves  slowly.  The  proud  Castil- 
ian  walks  with  measured  step  :  it  would  be  beneath  his 
dignity  to  run.  Even  the  trains  on  the  railroads  do  not 
go  at  the  same  speed  as  in  other  countries.  Everything 
moves  slowly,  except  political  revolutions,  which  may  take 
place  in  twenty-four  hours,  to  be  followed  by  a  counter- 
revolution a  week  later.  But  this  is  merely  the  ebb  and 
flow  of  a  tide.  Everything  which  is  really  worth  having, 
such  as  popular  education  and  religious  growth,  must  be 
a  work,  not  of  days  or  weeks,  but  of  years  and  generations. 
Our  brethren  are  doing  nobly.  Let  them  not  be  impa- 
tient, but  "hold  the  fort,"  resolved,  "having  done  all,  to 
stand "  ;  and  thus  slowly  and  silently,  but  surely,  they 
will  render  an  inestimable  service  to  the  sacred  cause  of 
Religion  and  of  Liberty. 


CHAPTER  XVIH. 
MIDNIGHT  MASS  IN"  THE  CATHEDRAL  OF  SEVILLE. 

If  I  were  to  begin  this  chapter  in  what  I  may  call  the 
"  staccato  "  style  affected  by  some  writers  of  romance,  who 
introduce  a  story  as  a  play-writer  introduces  a  play,  giving 
the  place,  time,  and  dramatis  personce,  I  should  put  in  the 
foreground  of  my  story  a  small  group  looking  in  each 
other's  faces  by  starlight,  or  by  "  the  lantern  dimly  burn- 
ing," whose  position  might  be  designated  in  this  wise  : 

Scene :  THE  ALHAMBRA. 
Time:  THE  DAY  BEFOKE  CHRISTMAS. 
Hour  :  FOUR  O'CLOCK  IN  THE  MORNING. 
Characters :  TRAVELLERS  EMERGING  FROM  THE  WASHINGTON 
IRVING  HOTEL. 

One  of  said  travellers  is  grumbling  at  being  routed  out 
of  bed  at  that  unseasonable  hour,  from  which  I  take  him 
to  be  an  Englishman,  although  it  is  not  easy  to  distinguish 
him  by  his  speech,  which  is  curiously  compounded,  as 
when  he  says,  with  a  droll  mixture  of  French  and  English, 
that  "  it  is  tres  bothersome,"  so  that  I  am  puzzled  to  make 
him  out,  what  manner  of  man  he  is,  until  I  hear  him  use 
the  word  "skedaddle,"  which  tells  very  plainly  where  he 


262  LEAVING  GRANADA. 

got  his  education,  since  lie  knows  how  to  speak,  not  only 
English  but  "American."  He  turns  out  to  be  a  Mexican 
who  has  lived  a  good  deal  in  "  the  States,"  where  he  has 
picked  up  a  choice  variety  of  slang.  His  fellow-travellers 
are  in  the  same  mood  with  him  except  myself,  who  have 
such  a  habit  of  looking  forward  eagerly  to  new  scenes  that 
bring  new  pleasures,  that  no  hour  is  too  early  for  me. 
And  so,  with  a  word  or  two  to  cheer  up  my  dolorous 
companions,  we  all  bundle  into  the  omnibus,  and  rattle 
down  the  hill,  and  the  Alhambra  knows  us  no  more. 

As  was  to  be  expected  we  arrived  at  the  station  nearly 
an  hour  sooner  than  was  necessary  :  the  office  for  selling 
tickets  was  not  open  :  and  we  had  the  pleasant  occupation 
of  walking  up  and  down  in  the  chill  morning  air,  which 
did  not  improve  tempers  that  had  been  sufficiently  sharp- 
ened before. 

However  all  things  have  an  end.  At  length  the  sleepy 
station-master  made  his  appearance  ;  we  were  able  to  get 
our  tickets  and  take  our  seats  ;  and  the  thermometer  of 
our  spirits  rose  as  we  moved  away.  Even  the  Mexican 
recovered  his  good  nature,  for  he  was  not  at  ah1  a  cross- 
grained  fellow  ;  and  as  soon  as  he  had  had  his  little 
grumble  (there  is  nothing  like  being  out  with  it  when  the 
fit  is  on),  he  brightened  up  and  was  as  cheerful  as  the  rest 
of  us  through  the  day. 

One  must  have  been  perverse  indeed  to  resist  the 
influence  of  that  morning,  as  the  sun  rose  above  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  before  which  all  "glooms  and  glums" 
dissolved  like  morning  dews,  as  a  Spring-like  warmth 
crept  through  our  frames.  Though  we  were  returning 
on  our  path,  yet  for  a  large  part  of  the  distance  it  was 
new,  since  we  had  passed  over  it  in  the  darkness  before  ; 
and  again  we  had  to  repeat  that  there  is  no  fairer  land 
beneath  the  sun  than  Andalusia,  whose  vast  plains  here 


GOING  HOME  TO  CHRISTMAS.  263 

and  tliere  rise  and  swell,  like  billows  of  the  ocean,  or  like 
our  own  glorious  prairies  of  the  West,  that  are  here 
surpassed  only  in  climate,  which  is  soft  and  mild  when 
our  prairies  are  drifted  with  snow.  To-day  (was  it 
because  it  was  the  day  before  Christmas  ?)  the  smile  of 
God  seemed  to  rest  upon  the  world  which  He  had  made. 
It  was  no  longer  full  of  sorrow  and  of  sin,  but  bright  with 
sunshine  and  happiness.  At  every  station  were  swarms 
of  country  people,  some  of  whom  had  come  with  chickens 
to  sell  to  those  not  already  provided  for  the  feast ;  while 
the  greater  part  were  here  to  greet  their  kinsfolk  who 
were  arriving  or  departing,  the  third  class  cars  being 
filled  with  sons  and  daughters  coming  to  keep  the  day 
with  the  old  folks  at  home ;  and  there  was  the  usual 
embracing  which  followed  the  sight  of  beloved  faces.  It 
was  all  so  like  our  American  Thanksgiving  that  it  gave  me  a 
pang  to  think  that  I  was  not  also  going  home  ;  that  for  me 

that  night 

"  No  blazing  hearth  would  burn." 

But  it  would  be  selfish  to  let  such  a  thought  cloud  even 
for  a  moment  the  joy  of  seeing  so  much  happiness.  That 
day  revealed  to  me  more  of  Spanish  domestic  life,  than  I 
h^id  seen  in  all  Spain  before  ;  and  a  pleasant  side  it  was 
of  what  may  seem  to  strangers  a  somewhat  rugged,  formal, 
and  fastidious  race.  A  people  must  have  a  great  deal  that 
is  attractive,  that  have  such  a  love  for  the  places  where  they 
were  born,  and  for  the  dear  ones  that  still  abide  under  the 
old  roof-tree. 

At  Bobadilla  we  met  the  train  coming  from  Malaga  by 
a  pass  through  the  Sierra  Nevada,  which  reminds  Euro- 
pean travellers  of  passes  in  the  Alps,  and  Americans  of  the 
caiions  of  the  Rocky  Mountains — a  pass  so  difficult  as  to 
try  the  utmost  resources  of  engineering.  The  railroad 
winds  its  way  through  deep  defiles  overhung  by  tremen- 


264  BULLS    FOR   THE  ARENA. 

dous  cliffs,  through  black  gorges  into  which  the  sun  never 
shines,  from  which  it  mounts  slowly  to  dizzy  heights,  and 
creeps  along  the  edge  of  precipices  where  the  traveller 
holds  his  breath.  Of  this  magnificent  work,  Spain  may 
well  be  proud.  It  is  by  such  triumphs  over  the  greatest 
obstacles  of  nature,  that  the  mountains  are  married  to  the 
sea,  and  plain  answers  to  plain  across  the  Alpine  heights 
of  the  Sierra  Nevada. 

Continuing  our  way  westward  for  hours,  it  was  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  we  approached  the  great 
city  on  the  banks  of  the  Guadalquivir,  once  the  capital  of 
Spain,  and  still  "the  most  Spanish"  of  all  her  cities. 
Seville  has  no  advantages  of  height  to  make  it  imposing 
as  one  approaches  it  from  a  distance.  It  is  not  a  city  set 
on  a  hill,  but  in  a  valley,  with  a  broad  river  before  it,  and 
plains  far  and  wide  around  it.  In  all  Spain  there  is 
nothing  richer  than  the  valley  of  the  Guadalquivir.  Just 
now  I  observe  a  new  feature  in  the  landscape  :  I  see,  not 
"  the  cattle  on  a  thousand  hills,"  but  herds  grazing  on  the 
plain,  which  attract  our  attention  for  a  special  reason — 
they  are  not  herds  of  Jerseys  or  Alderneys,  imported  for 
the  dairy  farms  needed  to  supply  the  wants  of  a  great  city, 
but  herds  of  another  kind,  provided  to  meet  a  peculiar 
Spanish  want,  viz  :  to  furnish  bulls  for  the  ring  !  Yonder 
are  a  couple  of  horsemen,  who,  to  judge  from  their  broad 
sombreros  shading  bronzed  and  rugged  faces,  might  be 
gauchos  riding  out  to  lasso  wild  cattle  on  the  pampas  of 
South  America,  but  who  are  simply  driving,  or  coaxing,  a 
number  of  bulls  toward  the  city.  This  is  not  always  an 
easy  matt  or,  as  they  are  of  a  breed  noted  for  fierceness, 
and  are  sometimes  refractory  ;  but  they  are  enticed  into 
the  way  to  destruction  by  domesticated  bulls,  who  lead 
them  along  unconscious  of  their  fate.  Probably  these  are 
intended  for  the  entertainment  of  next  Sunday,  which, 


CHRISTMAS  EVE.  265 

being  the  Sunday  after  Christmas,  must  be  duly  honored, 
although  this  is  not  the  season  for  bull-fights,  which  does 
not  begin  until  Easter.  But  whether  that  be  the  immedi- 
ate destination  of  these  magnificent  brutes,  sooner  or  later 
they,  and  the  hundreds  left  in  the  pasture  behind  them, 
will  find  their  way  to  the  Plaza  de  Toros. 

But  here  we  are  at  the  gates  of  Seville,  and  as  soon 
as  we  can  disembark,  are  glad  to  find,  I  will  not  say  our 
"  warmest  welcome  at  an  inn,"  but  a  very  cordial  greeting 
in  the  spacious  patio  of  the  Hotel  de  Madrid. 

On  my  way  hither,  I  had  been  delighting  myself  with 
visions  of  what  I  would  do  when  we  should  arrive.  After 
the  broken  rest  of  the  night,  I  was  "  dead  tired,"  and  it 
pleased  me  to  think  how,  alter  a  good  dinner,  and  an  hour 
or  two  spent  in  the  most  delightful  occupation  of  a  traveller 
— reading  the  letters  that  would  "be  awaiting  me — I  would 
plunge  into  a  hot  bath,  and  wash  away  the  dust  of  Spain, 
and  then  sink  into  a  dreamless  slumber,  which  should  not 
be  disturbed  till  the  dawn  of  another  day.  But  hardly 
had  we  arrived  before  it  was  whispered  about  that,  as  this 
was  Christmas  Eve,  there  was  to  be  a  Midnight  Mass  in 
the  Cathedral!  This  was  indeed  something  to  see  and 
hear,  even  in  the  extremity  of  fatigue ;  and  so  I  compro- 
mised with  my  weariness  by  taking  an  after-dinner  nap, 
asking  to  be  called  at  ten  o'clock. 

Promptly  at  the  hour  Mr.  Gulick  knocked  at  my  door, 
and  we  were  soon  in  the  streets,  mingling  with  the  crowds 
that  gather  in  every  Spanish  city  on  the  occasion  of  a 
fiesta.  Entering  a  cafe,  we  took  our  seats  at  a  little  table, 
where  we  fortified  ourselves  with  small  cups  of  strong 
black  coffee,  which  would  be  sure  to  keep  us  awake,  and 
then  repaired  to  the  Cathedral. 

It  was  eleven  o'clock  when  we  went  up  the  broad  steps, 
and  found  ourselves  in  the  interior  of  one  of  the  greatest 


266  THE  INTERIOR. 

temples  of  Christendom.  It  was  not  merely  its  vast  size 
which  impressed  us  (although  it  is  over  four  hundred  feet 
long,  and  nearly  three  hundred  feet  wide),  but  the  perfect 
proportion  of  the  whole,  that  gave  it  an  air  of  majesty, 
which  is  perhaps  the  truest  test  of  what  is  grand  in  archi- 
tecture. The  height  is  in  proportion  to  the  length  and 
the  breadth,  the  nave  rising  to  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet, 
while  the  dome  is  still  higher.  How  enormous  must  be 
the  columns  which  support  such  a  roof  and  such  a  dome ! 
Though  massive  as  the  weight  resting  on  them  requires, 
yet  they  are  of  such  height  that  a  perfect  symmetry  is 
preserved,  as  in  some  stately  trees  which  combine  grace 
and  strength,  striking  down  deep  into  the  earth,  and  yet 
soaring  to  the  sky.  Such  is  the  Cathedral  of  Seville,  of 
which  we  cannot  say  that  its  founders  "builded  better 
than  they  knew  "  :  for  they  began  with  an  avowed  purpose 
"to  erect  a  church  which  should  have  no  equal,"  and  if 
they  have  not  succeeded  in  surpassing  all  others,  yet  it  is 
enough  that  they  have  left,  as  the  monument  of  their 
pious  zeal,  one  of  the  grandest  temples  ever  reared  by 
human  hands. 

I  have  already  had  occasion  more  than  once  to  observe 
the  singular  effect  produced  in  Spanish  cathedrals  by 
placing  the  choir,  not  at  the  end,  but  in  the  centre.  It  is 
an  arrangement  which  has  grown  out  of  their  very  size. 
They  are  so  vast  that  they  are  quite  unfitted  for  ordinary 
worship.  There  is  no  congregation  that  can  fill  them,  nor 
would  it  be  in  the  power  of  the  human  voice  to  reach  to 
"the  utmost  bound"  of  the  area  covered  by  these  mighty 
arches  or  domes.  From  this  it  became  a  necessity  to 
fence  off  a  portion,  so  as  to  have  a  segment  of  the  whole 
more  in  proportion  to  the  wants  of  the  worshippers.  This 
is  done  in  the  English  cathedrals,  but  the  part  so  reserved 
is  at  the  end  of  a  nave  or  a  transept,  so  as  not  to  interfere 


THE  CENTRAL  CHOIR.  267 

with  the  architectural  effect  produced  when  one  is  able  to 
take  in  the  whole  interior  at  one  sweep  of  the  eye.  But  in 
Spain,  as  the  choir  is  planted  in  the  very  centre  of  the 
cathedral,  half  way  down  the  nave,  it  breaks  the  view,  not 
from  one  point,  but  from  every  point.  It  is  magnificent 
in  itself,  rich  with  carving  and  gold  ;  but  this  very  mag- 
nificence, as  it  attracts  attention,  interferes  still  more  with 
the  grand  effect  of  the  whole. 

But  even  with  this  drawback,  the  Cathedral  of  Seville 
is  so  enormous  that  the  effect,  though  diminished,  cannot 
be  destroyed.  For,  after  all,  the  choir  takes  up  but  the 
middle  of  one  aisle,  and  even  though  that  be  the  central 
one,  yet  as  there  are  jfe,  besides  a  number  of  chapels  on 
each  side,  which  add  to  the  breadth,  the  greater  part  of 
the  Cathedral  remains  with  its  majesty  unimpaired. 

And  this  central  choir  has  some  incidental  advantages, 
especially  at  night,  as  it  furnishes  a  centre  of  light  in  the 
midst  of  surrounding  darkness,  or  rather,  of  a  space  so 
vast  that  its  outer  portions  are  quite  dim,  so  that  one  who 
does  not  wish  to  come  too  near  the  central  "blaze  and 
blare,"  can  retreat  afar  off,  where  he  can  see  and  hear  as 
much  or  as  little  as  he  will ;  or  if  he  likes  to  be  with  his 
own  thoughts,  can  hide  himself  in  remote  recesses,  in 
which  the  sound  of  voices  will  be  softened  by  distance, 
and  come  to  him  faintly  and  soothingly  as  he  sits  alone 
in  the  mighty  shadows. 

So  was  it  with  us  for  the  greater  part  of  the  first  hour 
that  we  spent  in  the  Cathedral.  As  we  entered  a  service 
was  in  progress,  though  not  the  service  which  we  had 
come  to  attend.  It  was  only  vespers,  given  perhaps  at 
an  unusual  hour  of  the  night,  as  a  prelude  to  the  grander 
solemnity  that  was  to  follow.  The  choir  was  brilliantly 
lighted,  while  the  rest  of  the  vast  building  was  in  shadow. 
During  the  time  that  this  vesper  service  was  going  on,  we 


268  ALONE  IN  THE  SHADOWS. 

strayed  away  into  the  side  aisles  and  chapels,  where  the 
voices  heard  at  a  distance  and  at  that  hour,  produced  an 
effect  which  I  will  not  say  was  more  weird  and  ghostlike, 
but  more  thrilh'ng,  than  if  we  had  sat  in  the  centre  of  the 
choir,  under  the  blazing  lights,  and  getting  the  full  power 
of  a  hundred  voices. 

"While  thus  wandering  round  and  round,  we  came  to 
a  dim  corner  of  the  tremendous  pile,  where,  leaving  my 
companion  to  continue  his  observations,  I  sat  down  at 
the  foot  of  a  column  in  the  deep  shadow,  and  gave  myself 
up  to  my  own  thoughts.  These  great  temples,  reared  by 
the  toil  of  generations,  affect  me  like  mountains  or  the  sea, 
with  an  overpowering  impression  of  our  own  littleness. 
This  Cathedral  was  begun  nearly  five  centuries  ago,  and 
was  more  than  a  hundred  years  in  building.  Thus  it  was 
the  work  of  three  or  four  generations,  and  has  been  wor- 
shipped in  by  at  least  ten  generations.  Around  us  are 
the  memorials  of  a  far  distant  past.  Under  the  pavement 
sleeps  the  son  of  Christopher  Columbus.  Beneath  the 
altar  in  the  Royal  chapel  rests  the  body  of  St.  Ferdinand, 
one  of  the  old  Spanish  heroes,  like  the  Cid,  whose  valor  is 
one  of  the  traditions  of  the  country.  His  fame  was  a 
little  marred  when  they  made  a  saint  of  him,  for  soldiers 
do  not  make  good  saints.  Especially  is  the  title  hardly 
earned  when  one  is  canonized  simply  because,  King  as  he 
was,  he  brought  fagots  to  kindle  the  flames  to  burn  her- 
etics !  But  saint  or  warrior,  he  is  still  the  hero  of  Seville, 
which  he  delivered  from  the  Moors  more  than  six  hundred 
years  ago  ;  and  every  year  the  troops  do  him  honor,  as 
they  march  into  the  Cathedral,  and  ground  their  arms  and 
lower  their  colors  before  the  silver  shrine  in  which  they 
keep  his  bones.  The  Giralda  tower  is  older  than  the  Span- 
ish Conquest,  for  it  was  erected  by  the  Moors  as  the  mina- 
ret of  a  Mosque,  second  only  to  that  of  Cordova,  which 


PLAYING  THE  NATIONAL  HYMN.  269 

nearly  seven  centuries  ago  covered  the  place  where  the 
Cathedral  now  stands.  When  the  Moors  were  driven  out 
of  Seville,  they  would  have  destroyed  the  Giralda,  unwill- 
ing that  such  a  monument  of  their  power  and  their  relig- 
ion should  fall  into  the  hands  of  their  enemies,  but  happily 
it  was  preserved  to  be  the  glory  of  another  and  worthier 
temple  of  the  Most  High. 

Compared  with  these  lapses  of  time — with  the  age  of 
tower  or  cathedral — how  little  appears  the  life  of  one  man, 
or  of  one  generation  !  "What  is  our  life  ?  The  wind  pass- 
eth  over  it,  and  it  is  gone.  Man  cometh  up  like  a  flower, 
and  is  cut  down.  To-night  a  wanderer  from  the  far-off 
Western  world  sits  upon  this  stone  ;  to-morrow  he  is  gone  ; 
a  few  days  more  and  he  disappears,  not  only  from  this 
place,  but  from  the  earth,  and  is  no  more  seen. 

At  length  the  vespers  ended,  and  the  priests  filed  out 
of  the  choir.  Up  to  this  point  the  service  had  been  ren- 
dered by  voices  only.  But  now  the  organs  began  to  make 
the  air  to  tremble.  As  there  are  two  in  the  Cathedral,  both 
of  a  size  proportioned  to  the  place  (their  pipes  have  been 
compared  to  the  columns  of  Fingal's  Cave),  they  have  a 
tremendous  volume  ;  but  at  first  they  let  forth  only  their 
faintest  notes,  the  mere  whisperings  of  their  mighty  voices. 
Gradually  they  swelled  in  compass,  but  instead  of  contin- 
uing in  the  tone  of  the  preceding  chantings  and  prayers, 
to  our  amazement  they  suddenly  struck  up  the  Spanish 
national  hymn  !  This  certainly  touched  a  chord  in  every 
Spanish  breast,  but  not  exactly  that  of  religion,  although 
this  people  are  accustomed  to  mingle  religion  and  patriot- 
ism in  a  way  not  common  with  other  nations  ;  and  now  the 
officers  and  soldiers  who  were  present,  felt  a  double  inspi- 
ration, as  if,  after  listening  to  a  military  mass,  they  had 
suddenly  heard  the  blast  of  a  bugle  which  called  them  to 
battle.  After  this  patriotic  outburst  came  another  still  more 


270  THE  MIDNIGHT  MASS. 

lively  and  gay,  which  my  companion  said  was  neither  more 
nor  less  than  a  well  known  Spanish  dancing  tune  !  With 
my  sober  American  ideas,  I  could  not  understand  this  ab- 
rupt change.  Was  it  that  the  tension  of  feeling  needed  to 
be  relieved  by  some  lighter  strain  ?  Or  was  it  that  these  airs 
were  thought  not  an  unworthy  part  of  sacred  music  ?  This 
does  not  imply  any  want  of  reverence  for  the  holy  place. 
It  is  the  national  temperament,  which  must  express  itself 
in  its  own  way  even  in  religious  worship.  Sometimes  it 
goes  even  farther  than  music.  Once  in  the  year,  at  the 
Festival  of  Corpus  Christi,  a  joyousness  which  cannot  be 
restrained  breaks  forth  into  a  dance,  in  which  the  choristers 
of  the  Cathedral,  dressed  in  gay  costume,  perform  before 
the  high  altar,  as  David  did  before  the  Ark.  After  this  we 
need  not  be  surprised  that  Spaniards  regard  the  most  joy- 
ous music  as  the  most  fit  to  celebrate  an  event  which,  more 
than  any  other,  brought  joy  into  the  world. 

But  now  the  organ  ceased  as  the  clock  tolled  the  hour 
of  midnight,  and  a  new  procession  was  formed  in  the  choir 
to  move  to  the  high  altar  where  Mass  was  to  be  celebrated. 
The  altar  was  blazing  with  lights,  before  which  the  priests 
stood  in  their  brilliant  vestments  ;  and  there  was  a  pro- 
found stilb&ess,  when  a  deep  voice  began  to  intone  the 
prayers.  As  the  service  approached  the  great  theme  of  the 
Nativity,  a  priest  came  forward  into  the  pulpit,  and  while 
two  attendants  held  the  heavy  wax  candles  that  cast  light 
on  a  huge  volume  before  him,  read  from  the  Gospel  the 
story  of  the  Birth  of  Christ :  "And  there  were  shepherds 
in  the  field,  keeping  watch  over  their  flock  by  night " :  and 
when  he  came  to  "  the  multitude  of  the  heavenly  host, 
praising  God,  and  saying,  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 
Peace  on  earth,  Good  will  to  men,"  all  the  bells  in  the 
Giralda  tower  began  to  ring,  as  if  they  would  send  back 
the  tidings  to  the  listening  heavens, 


THK  TE  DEUM.  271 

Perhaps  an  observer  more  familiar  with  the  ritual  of 
this  service,  may  say  that  I  do  not  follow  its  precise  order. 
But  no  matter  for  that :  I  note  such  points  as  I  could 
understand  the  best,  and  as  struck  me  most.  The  Te 
Deum  needs  no  interpreter  nor  defender,  as  no  "  sacrifice 
of  praise  "  offered  on  earth  breathes  more  of  the  spirit  of 
heavenly  adoration.  In  whatever  church,  or  in  whatever 
language,  it  may  be  said  or  sung,  the  words  are  always 
sacred  and  divine.  And  here  we  may  note  one  benefit  of 
an  universal  language  (as  an  offset  to  the  many  disadvan- 
tages of  worshipping  God  in  an  unknown  tongue)  :  that 
scholars  at  least  can  follow,  if  the  common  people  cannot, 
in  Latin  what  they  could  not  in  Spanish.  And  there  were 
passages  which  in  the  sonorous  Latin  tongue  came  with  a 
power  that  was  quite  overwhelming.  Hare,  in  his  "  "Wan- 
derings in  Spain,"  says  of  a  service  which  he  attended  at 
Pampeluna  :  "  The  Christmas  mass  in  the  Cathedral  was 
magnificent.  No  service  in  Italy  can  compare  with  the 
solemn  bursts  of  music  which  follow  the  thrilling  solos 
sung  in  these  old  Spanish  churches."  I  leave  it  to  my 
readers  to  imagine  the  effect  of  these  "solemn  bursts," 
when,  above  the  swell  of  the  organ,  the  voices  rose  high 
and  clear,  pouring  forth  those  magnificent  strains,  in  which 
the  Church  on  earth  seems  to  join  with  the  Church  in 
heaven  : 

THOU  ART  THE  KlNG  OF  GLORY,  O   CHRIST  I 
THOU  ART  THE  EVERLASTING  SON  OP  THE  FATHER  I 
WE  BELIEVE  THAT   THOU   SHALT   GOME   TO  BE   OUR  JUDGE  : 
WE  THEREFORE  PRAY  THEE  HELP  THY  SERVANTS  WHOM  THOU 
HAST  REDEEMED  WITH   THY  PRECIOUS  BLOOD. 

When  the  ringing  of  the  little  bell  at  the  altar 
announced  the  raising  of  the  host,  the  whole  assembly  fell 
on  their  knees.  I  had  withdrawn  into  the  shadow  of  a 
column,  that  my  standing  might  not  offend  the  worship- 


272  SINCERE  DEVOTION. 

pers  :  for  if  I  could  not  join  with  them  in  that  act  of 
devotion,  I  would  not  seem  wanting  in  respect ;  and  I 
must  confess  that  the  scene  at  that  moment — the  vast 
Cathedral,  with  the  multitude  kneeling  on  the  pavement, 
not  only  near  the  altar  and  the  choir,  but  off  in  the  side 
aisles,  where  they  could  be  but  dimly  seen — was  one  of 
the  most  impressive  that  I  have  ever  witnessed. 

I  know  how  lightly  some  are  accustomed  to  speak  of 
such  a  service,  as  if  it  were  a  kind  of  theatrical  display 
intended  purely  for  scenic  effect.  Some  indeed  go  so  far 
as  to  sneer  at  every  form  of  worship  in  the  Roman  Catho- 
lic Church.  But  who  am  I  to  sit  in  judgment  on  my 
fellow-creatures?  What  degree  of  devotion  there  was 
underneath  this  service,  He  to  whom  it  was  offered  only 
knows.  But  more  perhaps  than  we  are  wont  to  recognize. 
Certainly  we  cannot  object  to  prayers  which  are  preserved 
in  our  Protestant  liturgies.  And  who  can  doubt  that  by 
many  they  are  offered  "with  a  humble,  lowly,  penitent, 
and  obedient  heart,"  and  with  faith  in  Him  who  is  for 
us  all — Protestant  and  Catholic  alike — the  one  and  only 
Redeemer  ? 

In  the  sacristy  of  the  Cathedral  is  preserved  a  painting 
more  than  two  hundred  years  old,  that  has  a  history.  The 
subject  is  the  taking  down  of  the  body  of  Jesus  from  the 
Cross.  It  was  painted  by  the  master  of  Murillo,  and  was 
the  admiration  of  his  greater  pupil,  who  would  sit  before 
it  for  hours  ;  and  once,  when  asked  by  the  sacristan  why 
he  lingered  so  long,  he  answered  that  "  he  was  waiting 
till  those  holy  men  had  finished  their  work."  He  could 
not  bear  to  lose  its  presence  even  in  death,  and  asked  that 
it  might  be  hung  over  his  grave,  as  it  was  in  the  church 
where  he  was  buried.  What  constituted  for  him  the  pecu- 
liar fascination  of  that  painting?  Was  it  the  mere  picture  ? 
Not  that  alone,  but  something  more,  which  spoke  not  to 


LEAVING  THE  CATHEDRAL.  273 

his  artistic  sense,  but  to  his  soul — something  in  which  he 
saw  the  form  of  One  who  "  bore  his  sins  in  His  own  body 
on  the  tree." 

And  so  will  I  believe  that'  among  those  who  knelt  that 
night  on  the  pavement  of  the  Cathedral  of  Seville,  were 
many  true  worshippers,  humble  in  heart  as  in  attitude, 
who  saw  in  the  lifting  up  of  the  host  on  the  altar  a  sign 
of  the  lifting  up  of  Christ  on  the  Cross,  to  whom  therefore 
it  was  a  symbol  of  the  Great  Sacrifice,  and  who,  bending 
low  before  their  Redeemer,  fervently  prayed  "  O  Lamb  of 
God,  who  takest  away  the  sin  of  the  world,  grant  us  Thy 
peace." 

The  Midnight  Mass  was  ended ;  the  priests  who  had 
stood  before  the  high  altar  passed  out  one  by  one  ;  the 
lights  were  extinguished  ;  the  organs  which  had  been 
rolling  their  billows  of  sound  through  the  long-drawn 
aisles  and  among  the  lofty  arches,  were  still ;  and  follow- 
ing the  dense  throng,  we  moved  slowly  away.  It  was 
after  one  o'clock  when  we  left  the  Cathedral.  As  we  came 
out  into  the  street,  the  stars  were  shining  brightly,  as  on 
that  blessed  night  when  Christ  was  born  into  the  world. 
Directly  overhead  Orion  with  his  glittering  belt  ruled 
monarch  of  the  midnight  sky — no  unworthy  symbol  of 
One  greater  than  Orion,  who  through  all  the  ages  holds 
on  His  victorious  way.  Far  above  the  unworthy  thoughts 
of  men — untouched  by  any  weak  conceptions  of  ours,  by 
differences  of  churches  or  of  creeds — HE  LIVES.  The  mid- 
night is  past,  and  though  it  is  still  hours  before  the  dawn, 
yet  the  day  is  come  which  brings  immortal  hope.  Look- 
ing up  to  the  iinclouded  heaven,  we  could  almost  hear  the 
angels  sing  "  To  you  is  born  this  day  a  Saviour  which  is 
Christ  the  Lord  " — tidings  as  precious  now  as  when  her- 
alded to  the  shepherds  of  Bethlehem,  and  which  I  press 
close  to  my  poor  heart  when  it  is  "  trembling  and  afraid." 


274  CHRISTUS  VINCIT. 

The  advent  of  Christ  is  the  hope  of  the  world  :  it  is  the 
centre  round  which  history  revolves.  Empires  pass  away, 
but  "  of  His  kingdom  and  dominion  there  is  no  end." 

In  the  city  of  Rome  is  an  obelisk  of  Egyptian  granite, 
brought  from  the  Nile  two  thousand  years  ago  as  one  of 
the  spoils  of  many  lands  which  fed  the  pride  of  Borne,  as 
they  bore  witness  to  her  universal  dominion.  To-day  that 
Empire  is  gone,  and  the  trophy  of  Pagan  emperors  stands 
in  front  of  St.  Peter's  to  tell  of  a  victory  greater  than  any 
recorded  on  the  Column  of  Trojan,  as  it  bears  this  inscrip- 
tion : 

CHKISTUS  VINCIT 

CHRISTUS  REGNAT 

CHRISTUS  IMPERAT 

CHRISTUS  AB  OMNI  MALO 

PLEBEM  SUAM 

DEFENDAT. 

On  this  foundation  all  things  good  stand  fast  forever  ; 
the  world  will  not  decay,  nor  the  race  perish,  for  which 
such  a  Deliverer  was  born. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
PICTURES  AND  PALACES,  BULL-FIGHTS  AND  BEGGARS. 

After  such  a  night,  the  morning  seemed  tame  and  dull  : 
for  what  scene  beheld  in  the  garish  light  of  day  could 
"  overcome  us  "  like  that  holy  midnight  ?  But  as  the  hours 
drew  on,  and  I  took  my  walks  abroad,  I  found  other  objects 
of  interest — other  churches,  only  less  glorious  than  the 
Cathedral ;  and  galleries  rich  in  treasures  of  art.  Seville 
is  the  city  of  Murillo.  Here  he  was  born  and  lived  and 
died  ;  and  no  palace  is  so  full  of  interest  as  the  little  house, 
in  an  obscure  quarter  of  the  town,  where  you  climb  up  a 
narrow  staircase  to  the  small  upper  room  which  was  his 
studio.  Here,  with  no  inspiration  but  his  own  genius  and 
the  Andalusian  sunshine  pouring  in  at  his  window,  the 
mighty  Spaniard  wrought  for  years ;  dreaming  as  only 
poets  dream  ;  and  then  seeking  to  give  expression  to  his 
dreams,  till  he  almost  took  the  sunlight  out  of  heaven  to 
suffuse  the  glowing  canvases  with  which  he  illumined  the 
city  of  his  birth. 

Although  it  is  more  than  six  hundred  years  since  Seville 
was  taken  from  the  Moors,  it  retains  many  traces  of  their 
occupation  and  monuments  of  their  architecture.  The 
most  conspicuous,  of  course,  is  the  Giralda,  and  next  to 


276  THE  ALCAZAR. 

this  is  the  Alcazar,  which  may  rank  with  the  Alhambra  as 
an  illustration  of  Moorish  luxury  and  splendor.  Built  for 
the  Moorish  kings,  it  was  occupied  after  them  by  their 
Christian  successors,  some  of  whom,  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
were  more  Christian  in  name  than  in  life  :  as,  for  example, 
Pedro  the  Cruel,  who  in  this  very  palace,  which  ought  to 
have  been  a  seat  of  royal  hospitality,  invited  his  half- 
brother  to  be  his  guest,  and  then  slew  hini  with  his  own 
hand,  for  which  he  had  the  honor  of  being  killed  himself 
by  that  brother's  brother — a  sweet  picture  of  the  domestic 
life  of  kings  and  princes  in  those  good  old  times !  And 
to  complete  the  confusion,  the  King  and  his  murdered 
brother  are  buried  together  in  the  Cathedral,  under  the 
altar  in  the  Koyal  Chapel,  close  by  the  dust  of  St.  Ferdi- 
nand !  Death  brings  peace  at  last,  if  it  be  only  between 
the  murderer  and  his  victim  ;  but  it  is  not  often  that  they 
sleep  in  the  same  grave.  What  a  happy  royal  family  that 
must  have  been !  Truly,  these  brothers  were  lovely  and 
pleasant  in  their  lives,  and  in  death  they  are  not  divided. 

In  the  Alcazar,  Charles  V.  and  Philip  II.  held  Court  in 
their  visits  to  Seville.  It  was  in  the  line  of  succession  to 
these  royal  pageants  that  we  found  the  large  patio  crowded 
with  carriages  that  had  brought  a  brilliant  retinue  of 
courtiers  to  a  reception  of  Queen  Isabella. 

But  Seville  is  not  merely  a  city  of  the  past,  of  faded 
grandeur  and  magnificence  :  it  has  still  a  vigorous  life  as  a 
centre  of  commerce,  as  one  may  see  by  the  shipping  which 
crowds  the  quays,  and  keeps  up  an  active  trade  with  Eng- 
land and  all  parts  of  Europe. 

Some  idea  of  its  present  wealth  and  consequence  may  be 
obtained  by  a  visit  to  a  modern  palace,  that  of  the  Duke 
de  Montpensier,  the  son  of  Louis  Philippe,  who,  though  a 
French  prince,  after  his  marriage  with  the  sister  of  Isabella, 
took  up  his  residence  in  Spain,  and  is  as  thorough  a  Span- 


THE  DUKE  DE  MONTPENSIER.  277 

iard  as  can  be  found  this  side  the  Pyrenees,  having  Span- 
ish ideas  of  honor,  in  proof  of  which  he  has  fought  a  duel 
and  killed  his  man,  and  "  all  that  sort  of  thing."  He  has 
also  aspired  to  be  a  power  in  Spanish  politics,  and  has 
more  than  once  figured  as  a  Pretender  to  the  Throne, 
which  has  been  so  often  vacant  since  he  came  to  reside  in 
Spain  that  it  was  quite  natural  he  should  think  that  it 
was  waiting  for  him  to  occupy.  He  never  got  so  far  as 
that.  The  nearest  he  came  to  it  was  when  his  daughter 
Mercedes  was  married  to  the  King  (she  was  the  first  wife 
of  the  late  Alfonso),  on  which  occasion  it  is  said  that,  so 
exalted  were  his  ideas  of  royalty,  he  fell  upon  his  knees 
before  her  and  kissed  her  hand,  as  the  fit  homage  to  be 
paid  by  a  subject  (even  though  that  subject  were  her  own 
father)  to  a  Queen  of  Spain !  To  have  clasped  her  in  his 
arms,  as  an  English  father  would  have  done,  and  given  her 
a  good  smack  upon  her  blushing  cheek,  would  have  been 
such  a  violation  of  Spanish  etiquette  and  propriety  as 
would  have  stamped  him  as  a  low-bred  foreigner  !  After 
this,  there  is  no  telling  what  might  have  happened  if  the 
poor  man  had  been  made  King  himself.  It  might  have 
given  him  a  fit  of  apoplexy.  From  this  terrible  fate  he 
was  saved  by  being  permitted  to  remain  in  his  former 
obscurity.  But  if  not  a  King,  he  manages  to  get  along 
comfortably  in  his  palace,  with  its  endless  apartments, 
filled  with  paintings  and  every  sign  of  unbounded  wealth, 
the  grounds  stretching  out  into  beautiful  gardens,  with 
fountains  playing,  and  paths  winding  under  the  shade  of 
palms  that  invite  to  repose. 

As  we  came  out  from  this  truly  royal  residence,  it  was 
the  hour  when  the  fashionable  world  of  Seville  turns  out 
for  its  afternoon  drive  ;  and  taking  a  carriage,  we  joined 
in  the  long  procession,  riding  for  miles  up  and  down  the 
banks  of  the  Guadalquivir. 


278  THE  TOBACCO   FACTORY. 

It  is  rather  a  come-down  from  the  society  of  princes 
and  dukes  and  Spanish  grandees,  to  turn  from  them  all  to 
a  tobacco  factory !  But  this  is  one  of  the  most  novel  and 
extraordinary  sights  of  Seville.  As  the  sale  of  tobacco  is  a 
Government  monopoly,  the  manufacture  is  on  a  large  scale, 
with  every  precaution  against  the  exclusive  right  being 
evaded  by  foes  without  or  within.  The  building  is  of 
enormous  size,  covering  nearly  as  much  ground  as  the 
Great  Pyramid,  and  surrounded,  like  a  fortress,  with  a 
moat,  so  that  it  can  be  guarded  on  every  side,  giving  no 
opportunity  for  smugglers  to  get  in  by  some  hidden  way 
of  approach,  and  carry  off  the  precious  weed  on  which 
depends  so  much  of  the  revenue  of  Spain. 

A  quadrangle  so  vast  that  it  has  twenty-eight  interior 
patios,  large  and  small,  must  have  a  hundred  sides  to  so 
many  squares ;  in  which  there  are  five  thousand  women  and 
girls  employed  in  the  preparation  of  tobacco  ;  some  taking 
the  stalks  in  pieces  and  spreading  out  the  leaves  ;  others 
cutting  them  in  strips  ;  others  winding  them  into  cigars  or 
cigarettes — work  which  they  do  with  great  rapidity  ;  some 
putting  the  cigars  in  little  bundles  of  fifty  each  for  sale  in 
the  Spanish  shops,  or  in  larger  packages  for  exportation  ; 
while  the  ends  and  clippings,  even  to  the  finest  powder 
that  is  dropped  from  the  leaf,  are  saved  for  filling  the  cigar- 
ettes, or  for  making  snuff!  The  whole  amount  of  tobacco 
thus  consumed  is  not  less  than  two  millions  of  pounds  in  a 
year.  What  infinite  labor  and  toil  to  vanish  into  smoke ! 

Passing  through  the  long  corridors,  we  found  them 
crowded  with  working-women,  in  whose  faces  we  could 
trace  distinctly  the  different  races  that  form  the  Span- 
ish people.  There  is  no  better  place  in  all  Spain  to 
study  the  variety  of  elements  that  are  thus  combined. 
Here  is  a  girl  with  face  so  fair  and  hair  so  light  that  we 
feel  sure  of  her  Saxon  descent — perhaps  she  is  the  daugh- 


THE  BURNING  OF  HERETICS.  279 

ter  of  an  English  sailor  who  made  voyages  to  Seville  ;  next 
her,  working  at  the  same  table,  is  a  Jewess  ;  while  great 
numbers  have  the  profusion  of  black  hair  and  the  flashing 
eyes  that  are  unmistakable  marks  of  Moorish  blood. 

Transitions  are  abrupt  in  Spain,  and  nowhere  more  so 
than  in  Seville  ;  and  looking  out  of  the  windows  in  the 
rear  of  this  tobacco  factory,  we  see  an  open  plain  without 
the  walls,  where  three  hundred  years  ago  heretics  were 
burned  !  One  may  still  trace  the  foundations  of  a  square 
platform  on  which  the  fires  were  kindled.  Here  the  last 
victim  of  Spanish  cruelty  perished  but  little  more  than  a 
hundred  years  ago,  in  1781.  It  was  a  woman  who  was 
accused  of  being  a  witch,  though  a  more  probable  expla- 
nation of  her  mysterious  power  would  be  to  suppose  that 
her  witchcraft  was  not  unlike  that  exercised  at  the  present 
day  by  thousands  of  her  sisters,  some  of  whom  we  have 
just  seen,  and  can  testify  to  their  bewitching  faces.  That 
is  a  kind  of  sorcery  which  will  not  cease  so  long  as  Moorish 
maidens  live  on  the  earth. 

Three  centuries  ago  the  Inquisition  flourished  in  Seville, 
and  the  cowled  Dominicans  who  presided  at  that  ghostly 
tribunal  had  full  sway.  Victims  were  not  wanting :  for 
if  the  Reformed  doctrine  had  not  spread  widely  in  the 
South  of  Spain,  still  every  man  who  showed  the  least  inde- 
pendence of  thought  was  an  object  of  suspicion  ;  and  if 
there  was  any  personal  spite  against  him,  or  he  had  prop- 
erty to  be  confiscated,  it  was  easy  to  get  up  a  pretext  for 
his  arrest,  when  he  would  be  quickly  placed  where  there 
would  be  no  delay  for  want  of  evidence,  and  no  scruples  of 
conscience  in  "  administering  justice  on  general  principles  " ! 
When  the  Inquisition  was  abolished  in  Spain,  of  course 
this  particular  establishment  went  with  the  rest.  I  was 
curious  to  see  if  there  were  any  remains  of  the  gloomy  old 
pile,  and  the  Spanish  Protestant  pastor  took  me  to  the 


280  THE  DOOR  OF  THE  INQUISITION. 

very  spot  where  it  stood.  Parts  of  the  walls  still  stand, 
though  the  internal  arrangement  has  been  so  changed  that 
the  original  design  of  the  structure  is  quite  obscured.  Of 
course  the  clerical  party  was  more  than  willing  that  its 
wicked  purpose  should  be  concealed  or  forgotten.  But  in 
the  alterations  there  were  small  fragments  which  could  be 
kept  as  souvenirs.  Some  picked  up  the  rusted  nails  of  the 
huge  door  (which  was  like  the  gate  of  a  fortress),  several  of 
which  my  friend  obtained.  One  of  them  he  gave  to  me,  and 
I  keep  it  as  a  relic.  It  is  a  savage-looking  spike,  over  six 
inches  long,  and  might  have  been  intended,  in  the  Medi- 
aeval times  in  which  it  was  wrought,  for  a  fortress  or  a 
prison  :  for  the  Bastille  in  Paris  or  a  castle  on  the  Rhine — 
the  stronghold  of  some  old  Feudal  baron,  who,  though  he 
called  himself  a  Knight,  was  nothing  but  a  robber.  But 
being  designed  for  a  religious  (!)  purpose,  its  character  is 
indicated  by  the  figures  on  its  head  (three  and  a  half 
inches  in  diameter),  which  bears  the  emblems  of  a  cross, 
a  crown  of  thorns,  the  nails  that  were  driven  into  the 
limbs  of  the  Crucified,  and  in  large  letters  I.H.S.  [JESUS 
HOMINUM  SALVATOR].  Thus  the  sacred  name  of  Him  who 
came  to  bring  peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  men,  was  affixed 
to  an  institution  that  was  to  do  the  work  of  hell !  As  I 
take  this  nail  in  hand,  I  think  what  a  story  it  could  tell ! 
If  its  round  head  were  a  huge  black  eye,  what  scenes  must 
it  have  looked  upon  :  what  processions  of  misery,  as  the 
heavy  portal  swung  open  for  those  to  pass  through  who 
would  never  return !  Or  were  its  other  side  (bulging  in 
front,  it  is  hollow  behind)  an  ear,  what  sounds  it  must 
have  heard  in  the  three  centuries  that  it  held  its  place  and 
listened  :  what  clanking  of  chains,  what  echo  of  dungeon 
doors,  what  shrieks  of  agony  from  the  victims  of  torture ! 
And  now,  if  it  could  but  speak,  what  tales  of  horror  could 
it  tell  with  its  iron  tongue !  God  be  praised  that  such 


THE  HOLY  WEEK.  281 

cruelties  have  ceased  to  be !  The  horrible  old  Bastille  has 
been  literally  smoked  out :  for,  if  I  do  not  confuse  the 
rooms,  what  was  the  Chamber  of  Torture  has  been  turned 
into  a  Spanish  kitchen,  and  now  the  pot  was  boiling,  and 
the  simple  meal  being  prepared  ;  and  the  odor  of  Spanish 
cooking,  even  though  redolent  of  garlic,  was  fragrance 
itself  in  contrast  with  that  which  once  filled  the  place — 
the  sickening  smell  of  human  blood ! 

If  one  can  choose  his  time  out  of  all  the  year  to  visit 
Seville,  let  it  be  in  the  Holy  Week,  when  he  will  witness 
a  stately  ceremonial  which  will  carry  him  back  to  the 
Miracle  Plays  of  the  Middle  Ages  (the  only  thing  like  it 
now  in  existence  is  the  Passion  Play  of  Ober-Ammergau), 
in  which  a  procession  moves  slowly  through  the  streets, 
that  is  intended  to  represent  the  mournful  throng  that  once 
passed  through  the  Yia  Dolorosa  on  its  way  to  Calvary. 
Here  is  the  figure  of  Christ  bearing  his  cross,  followed  by 
those  who  bewailed  and  lamented  him,  with  all  the  details 
of  the  awful  tragedy  of  the  Crucifixion,  set  forth  in  a  man- 
ner so  realistic,  and  with  a  spirit  so  devout,  as  to  make  a 
deep  impression  on  the  beholders — a  spectacle  which  is 
witnessed,  not  only  with  reverence,  but  with  awe,  the 
people  falling  on  their  knees  with  the  utmost  devotion. 

Of  course  devotion  so  intense  must  have  some  relief, 
and  after  the  penances  and  prayers  of  Holy  Week,  with 
the  fasting  on  Good  Friday,  and  the  chanting  of  the  Mis- 
erere, comes  the  Festival  of  Easter,  when  there  is  a  sudden 
and  powerful  reaction,  and  the  pent-up  feeling  of  the  mul- 
titude finds  expression  in  Te  Deums  and  anthems  to  cele- 
brate the  Resurrection  of  our  Lord.  So  far  Seville  does 
but  lift  up  its  voice  in  unison  with  all  Christendom.  But 
no  Spanish  festival  could  end  here.  The  popular  rejoicing 
is  not  complete  without  that  which  furnishes  the  greatest 
excitement — a  bull-fight !  The  season  always  begins  on 


282  A  BULL-FIGHT. 

Easter  Sunday,  from  which  time  there  is  a  performance 
every  Sunday  afternoon  till  near  the  close  of  Summer. 

As  my  visit  to  Spain  was  in  the  Winter,  I  had  no  oppor- 
tunity while  in  Madrid  to  see,  even  had  I  wished,  this 
bloodiest  of  all  the  games  that  have  survived  the  Roman 
amphitheatre.  But  in  Seville,  though  the  Holy  Week  had 
not  come,  Christmas  had  come,  and  how  could  that  holy 
time  be  allowed  to  pass  without  this  expression  of  national 
joy  ?  Had  it  been  on  a  week-day,  I  might  perhaps  have 
screwed  up  my  courage  to  look  for  once  upon  the  scene  ; 
as,  had  I  lived  in  Kome  in  the  days  of  the  Csesars,  I  might 
have  gone  to  the  Coliseum  to  see  the  combats  of  lions  and 
tigers,  and  even  of  gladiators,  if  it  were  only  to  study  the 
barbarism  and  cruelty  which  were  an  inseparable  part  of 
the  civilization  of  Imperial  Kome.  But  the  bull-fight  was 
to  be  on  Sunday,  and  of  course  that  settled  the  question. 
Though  I  have,  first  and  last,  spent  some  years  of  my  life 
abroad,  I  could  never  get  so  familiarized  to  the  European 
Sunday  as  to  forget  what  my  father  and  mother  taught  me 
in  my  childhood  :  that  the  seventh  day  was  "  holy  time." 
To  a  traveller  especially  there  is  something  so  grateful  in 
this  day  of  perfect  rest,  that  he  is  untrue  to  himself,  as 
well  as  to  the  religion  of  his  country  and  the  traditions  of 
his  fathers,  who  gives  his  assent  in  any  way  or  form  to  its 
desecration. 

But  there  was  one  thing  which  we  could  not  help  seeing 
if  we  would,  and  that  was  the  excitement  which  it  pro- 
duced. We  could  not  step  into  the  streets,  or  even  look 
out  of  the  window,  without  seeing  that  the  whole  city  was 
in  agitation.  After  watching  it  for  a  time  from  our  bal- 
cony, we  went  out  to  get  a  clearer  view,  and  found  the 
people  almost  in  a  state  of  frenzy.  Every  means  of  trans- 
port, drawn  by  horses  or  mules,  from  the  princely  carriage 
to  the  common  dray,  was  in  motion;  while  omnibuses, 


SCENES  IN"  THE  ARENA.  283 

carrying  a  dozen  or  twenty,  went  "  pouring  forward  with 
impetuous  speed  "  to  the  scene  of  combat. 

Returning  to  our  rooms,  we  sat  reading  for  a  couple  of 
hours,  and  then  went  out  again.  The  streets  were  more 
quiet,  for  the  crowds  were  gathered  in  the  arena.  Passing 
round  to  the  rear,  we  found  the  crowd  of  idlers  that  always 
hang  about  the  doors  of  a  circus  or  a  menagerie.  Little 
was  heard  from  within,  for  the  multitude  was  watching 
with  eager  eyes  what  might  be  truly  called  a  "  game  of 
life,"  since  in  it  one  life  at  least,  whether  of  man  or  beast, 
must  be  sacrificed.  In  such  contests  there  are  always  mo- 
ments of  special  danger  and  excitement.  A  gentleman  in 
Madrid  told  me  he  had  seen  a  matador  tossed  in  air  three 
times  by  a  bull,  and  carried  from  the  ring — dying,  it  was 
supposed — into  the  ante-room,  where  the  priest  was  wait- 
ing to  give  him  extreme  unction  !  Another  told  me  he  saw 
Frascuelo,  the  celebrated  bull-fighter  of  Madrid,  throw 
himself  under  the  feet  of  a  bull  that  was  rushing  madly 
at  him,  and  which  thus  passed  over  him.  At  such  mo- 
ments of  course  the  immense  audience  (the  arena  in 
Madrid  will  hold  14,000  ;  that  in  Seville  12,000)  lean  from 
their  boxes  aghast  and  breathless.  But  when  the  danger 
is  over,  and  the  victory  won,  they  break  out  into  raptures 
of  applause.  Now  and  then  we  heard  from  within  the 
walls  a  dull  roar  that  told  us  that  a  combat  was  ended. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  gates  were  thrown  open,  and 
out  came  riding  the  richly-caparisoned  picadores,  whose 
noble  office  it  is  to  ride  round  the  bull,  lances  in  hand,  and 
prick  his  sides  so  as  to  goad  him  to  fury.  Of  course  they 
are  not  so  much  exposed  as  those  on  foot,  though  some- 
times the  entertainment  comes  nearer  than  is  pleasant. 
A  friend  in  Madrid  told  me  he  had  seen  a  bull  strike  a 
horse  with  such  tremendous  power  as  to  lift  both  horse  and 
rider  into  the  air.  In  this  "  ground  and  lofty  tumbling " 


284  AFTER  THE  BATTLE. 

there  are  of  course  some  heavy  falls.  But  the  danger 
is  not  equally  divided  :  for  the  horses  are  blindfolded,  so 
that  they  cannot  avoid  the  rush,  while  the  riders  take  good 
care  that  they  shall  not  be  hurt.  I  observed  that  their  legs 
were  swollen  to  elephantine  proportions.  They  are  cased 
in  sheet  iron,  so  that  they  cannot  be  gored,  and  are  so 
padded  that  even  if  a  horse  falls  upon  a  man,  it  will  not 
crush  him.  This  seemed  to  me  a  cowardly  way  of  protect- 
ing themselves,  to  be  adopted  by  gallant  Spanish  cavaliers. 

But  now  a  ghastly  sight  was  to  meet  our  eyes.  Just 
inside  the  gates  were  lying  the  bodies  of  the  slain.  The 
bulls  were  being  stripped  of  their  hides,  and  cut  up  for 
market  ;  and  I  was  informed  that  by  the  morrow  morning 
all  the  butcher-stalls  in  Seville  would  be  supplied  from  the 
bull-ring.  Yet  more  ghastly  still  were  the  dead  horses,  of 
which  I  counted  a  dozen  lying  on  the  pavement,  all  horri- 
bly g.ored,  and  several  of  them  disembowelled — a  sicken- 
ing spectacle,  which  I  will  not  further  describe. 

As  the  doors  were  now  open,  and  the  crowd  rapidly 
pouring  out,  we  walked  into  the  arena,  where  the  attend- 
ants were  cleaning  up  the  place.  One  was  sweeping  up 
the  entrails  of  a  horse,  and  others  smoothing  over  the  sand 
that  had  been  wet  with  blood.  And  this  was  on  the  Sab- 
bath day  !  Some  may  think  it  strange  that  we  should  be 
willing  to  look  into  the  arena  even  after  it  was  empty. 
I  must  confess  it  was  not  exactly  like  a  church  ;  and  yet  I 
never  had  a  more  effective  sermon  on  human  depravity 
than  I  had  that  day  in  the  bull-ring  of  Seville  ! 

No  picture  of  Spanish  life  would  be  complete  without 
the  beggars,  who  introduce  themselves  to  all  strangers,  and 
give  them  a  cordial  and  continuous  welcome.  This  is  one 
of  the  plagues  of  the  country,  and  one  cannot  but  ask 
himself  how  it  is  that  Spain  should  be  so  afflicted.  I  am 
sorry  to  say  it,  but  I  must  think  that  the  Church  and  the 


SPANISH   BEGGARS.  285 

saints  have  had  a  good  deal  to  do  with  it.  The  mendicant 
orders  have  made  begging  respectable,  and  the  giving  of 
alms  one  of  the  first  of  religious  duties.  The  undue  mul- 
tiplication of  religious  services  tends  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. There  are  but  fifty-two  Sabbaths  in  the  year,  while 
there  are  one  hundred  saints'  days  ;  and  although  these 
are  not  all  observed,  yet  they  are  to  an  extent  that  inter- 
feres seriously  with  the  industry  of  the  people,  and  fosters 
the  habits  of  idleness  which  are  the  parents  of  pauper- 
ism. The  church  door  is  the  place  where  the  beggars 
lounge,  and  stretch  out  their  hands  for  alms  ;  and  I  believe 
that  a  vigorous  cutting  down  of  holy  days,  even  to  a  pro- 
hibition of  their  observance,  would  be  a  first  step  towards 
getting  rid  of  what  is  a  serious  drain  upon  the  resources 
of  the  country. 

But  while  I  look  upon  beggars  with  a  severely  moral 
eye,  I  am  not  insensible  to  the  picturesque  in  their  appear- 
ance, and  am  disposed  to  take  a  kindly  and  charitable  view 
of  the  most  worthless  of  my  fellow-creatures.  In  Naples 
the  lazzaroni  are  so  vivacious  in  their  rags,  that  we  almost 
forget  their  ugliness.  It  is  not  so  here,  for  the  Spanish 
beggars  are  generally  but  a  rabble  rout.  Only  the  children 
are  attractive,  for  youth  and  bright  eyes  make  us  forget 
the  outer  covering ;  or  rather,  the  poorer  and  meaner  it  is, 
the  more  it  makes  us  see  the  flashing  of  a  fire  behind  it, 
which  no  squalidness  can  conceal.  I  often  stop  in  the 
streets  to  look  at  the  cunning  little  imps,  that  furnished 
so  many  subjects  for  Murillo,  whose  "  Spanish  Beggars " 
almost  rival  his  Madonnas. 

To  keep  this  fascination,  a  beggar  should  be  always 
young  and  pretty.  As  he  grows  up,  he  becomes  repulsive. 
The  women  are  hags,  and  the  men  often  such  maimed  and 
mutilated  specimens  of  humanity  that  more  than  once  they 
have  reminded  me  of  the  long  line  of  stumps  of  arms  and 


286  AN  OLD  MAN  AND  HIS  DOGL 

legs  that  were  thrust  out  at  me  on  the  bridge  over  the 
Golden  Horn  in  Constantinople. 

Nor  is  begging  confined  to  the  lowest  class.  It  is 
sometimes  a  resort  of  men  of  better  condition,  who  are 
too  proud  to  work,  and  yet  not  ashamed  to  beg.  Once 
or  twice  a  man  whose  dress  was  that  of  a  gentleman, 
has  sidled  up  to  me  with  an  air,  half  confidential,  half 
patronizing,  and  a  look  which  said  as  plainly  as  words  : 
"  Stranger  from  a  foreign  soil !  born  under  other  skies  and 
to  happier  destinies !  bestow  upon  me  a  little  of  that  of 
which  you  have  a  superfluity  ;  and  receive  the  homage  of 
a  grateful  heart " !  . 

Who  could  resist  such  an  appeal  ?  It  was  as  if  I  saw 
Columbus  begging  at  the  Convent  gate,  and  I  was  proud 
to  relieve  the  distress  of  one  who,  to  judge  from  his  appear- 
ance, might  have  been  (perhaps  he  was)  a  grandee  of  Spain. 

Sometimes  it  is  a  real  distress  which  has  come  upon 
those  who  have  seen  better  days,  and  is  infinitely  pathetic. 
One  day  in  Seville  I  saw  a  humble  scene  which  I  have 
never  forgotten  :  an  old  man  of  venerable  appearance,  and 
yet  a  beggar,  who  had  sunk  down  on  the  sidewalk,  leaning 
his  weary  back  against  the  wall,  and  resting  his  hands  upon 
his  upraised  knees,  to  partake  of  a  bit  of  cold  meat  and  a 
crust  of  bread,  which  were  his  only  meal.  He  was  not 
alone.  If  he  had  been  accompanied  by  a  child,  I  should 
have  thought  of  Little  Nell.  But  his  only  companion  was 
a  dog,  who  now  put  up  his  long  nose  between  his  master's 
knees,  in  sign  of  expectation.  It  was  very  touching  to  see 
that  dog's  faith.  His  master  was  one  of  a  class  that  men 
despise,  and  look  upon  with  scorn.  All  the  world  had  for- 
saken him,  but  his  dog  had  not  forsaken  him.  Nobody 
believed  in  that  poor  old  man,  but  his  dog  believed  in  him. 
Nothing  could  shake  his  confidence  :  he  knew  that  his  time 
would  come  ;  that  his  master  would  not  forget  him ;  that 


WIT  OF  THE  BEGGARS.  287 

after  he  had  gnawed  the  last  particle  of  flesh  from  the 
bone,  poor  Fido  would  get  that  bone,  and  might  crunch  it  till 
it  yielded  some  little  nourishment. 

As  I  looked  in  silence  at  that  couple,  who  were  not 
aware  of  my  presence,  and  whom  it  would  have  been  a 
rudeness  to  disturb,  even  to  offer  charity,  I  thought  what 
a  support  it  is  in  all  time  of  adversity  to  have  some  living 
thing  to  believe  in  us,  if  it  be  only  a  poor  dumb  creature  ; 
and  when  this  old  Spaniard  staggered  to  his  feet,  and  his 
humble  companion  walked  patiently  by  his  side,  I  was 
ready  to  hope  that  the  Indian  was  not  far  wrong  when  he 
believed  that  in  his  happy  hunting-grounds 

"  His  faithful  dog  should  bear  him  company." 

But  the  common  run  of  beggars  are  more  amusing  than 
pathetic  ;  they  are  not  objects  of  compassion ;  they  have 
adopted  a  profession,  and  take  life  as  it  comes  with  a 
philosophy  worthy  of  their  betters.  If  they  are  not  quite 
so  lively  and  gay  as  the  lazzaroni  of  Naples,  I  am  told  that 
they  are  not  without  their  share  of  mother  wit,  and  that 
there  is  a  way  of  turning  their  maledictions  into  blessings. 
"When  a  Spanish  beggar  salutes  you,  do  not  repel  him  with 
scorn,  but  commend  him  to  the  care  of  the  Virgin !  Or  if 
you  say  to  him  with  engaging  frankness,  that  you  have  not 
a  peseta  to  bless  yourself  with,  his  importunities  will  be 
turned  to  pity  ;  he  immediately  begins  to  sympathize  with 
you ;  and  relieves  your  embarrassment  by  shrugging  his 
shoulders  and  offering  the  cheerful  suggestion,  "  Oh,  never 
mind  ;  perhaps  you  will  give  me  something  the  next  time ! " 

Such  is  a  picture  of  life  in  Seville  :  it  is  a  kaleidoscope 
of  many  colors ;  a  shifting  scene,  in  which  the  characters 
are  changing  every  hour — princes  and  priests  alternating 
with  bull-fighters  and  beggars.  It  is  this  variegated  life 
which  makes  the  city  so  picturesque  and  so  attractive  to 


288  A  CITY  FOR,  ARTISTS  AND  SCHOLARS. 

artists.  From  its  long  possession  by  the  Moors,  it  has  a 
ssmi-Oriental  character,  as  it  has  a  semi-tropical  vegeta- 
tion, and  furnishes  no  end  of  subjects  for  a  painter,  in 
which,  against  the  background  of  the  old  Moorish  archi- 
tecture, he  can  introduce  a  variety  of  characters  not  to  be 
found  in  cities  of  France,  or  even  of  Italy,  that  may  be 
larger,  but  are  more  monotone 

Of  course  romance  adds  to  reality  in  a  city  which  is 
known  to  ah1  but  Spaniards  chiefly  through  the  medium  of 
fiction  and  poetry  and  music.  It  is  not  only  George  Eliot's 
Spanish  Gypsy,  but  a  hundred  tales  and  plays  and  poems, 
that  have  found  their  scene  in  this  South  of  Spain.  To 
many  the  chief  association  of  this  old  Moorish  city,  will  be 
with  the  opera  of  the  Barber  of  Seville,  and  they  can  only 
think  of  it  as  a  place  where  it  is  always  moonlight ;  where 
dark-eyed  senoritas  sit  on  balconies  and  listen,  while  their 
disconsolate  lovers  tinkle  their  guitars,  and  fill  the  dreamy 
air  of  night  with  the  music  of  their  rich  Spanish  voices. 

Such  things  no  doubt  there  are  still  for  those  who  seek 
them  ;  but  for  sober  and  quiet  old  Dons  like  myself,  Seville 
has  other  attractions.  It  has  not  only  galleries  for  artists, 
but  libraries  for  scholars.  Attached  to  the  Cathedral  is  a 
library  left  to  it  by  the  son  of  Columbus,  which  is  rich  in 
memorials  of  his  father  ;  and  an  American  who  should  take 
interest  in  tracing  from  the  beginning  the  Spanish  voyages 
of  discovery,  would  find  here  a  study  for  a  few  months  that 
would  be  as  instructive  as  it  would  be  delightful. 

But  the  greatest  charm  of  all  is  the  delicious  climate. 
Americans  coming  to  Spain  for  the  Winter,  would  do  well 
to  remember  that  it  has  many  climates,  and  that  all  are  not 
good.  That  of  Madrid  is  very  treacherous.  As  the  city 
stands  nearly  twenty-five  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  sea,  it  is  very  bleak  ;  and  as  it  is  swept  by  the  winds 
from  the  Guadarrama  Mountains,  it  is  often  bitter  cold. 


THE  CLIMATE.  289 

Even  when  there  is  no  wind  astir,  and  the  air  is  dry  and 
still,  it  is  so  sharp  and  keen  that  they  have  a  proverb  that 
"While  it  will  not  blow  out  a  candle,  it  will  put  out  a  life ! " 
How  careful  the  people  are  to  guard  against  it,  one  may 
see  by  the  way  in  which  they  wrap  their  cloaks  about 
fchem,  and  muffle  up  their  faces  lest  they  inhale  it  too 
freely.  But  in  Seville  the  climate  is  equally  distant  from 
the  extremes  of  heat  and  cold ;  it  is  a  kind  of  neutral  zone, 
where  warring  elements  meet  only  to  dissolve  ;  where  op- 
posing climates,  like  the  alien  races,  melt  into  one  ;  where, 
as  the  Orient  touches  the  Occident,  and  the  blood  of  the 
Spaniard  mingles  with  that  of  the  Moor,  so  Northern  and 
Southern  temperatures  soften  each  other ;  till  it  seems  as 
if  the  climates  were  like  lovers : 

"  The  palm- tree  dreaming  of  the  pine, 
The  pine-tree  of  the  palm," 

as  the  sharp  winds  that  come  down  from  the  snowy  Sierras 
are  wooed  and  won  by  the  tropical  airs  that  blow  across 
the  Mediterranean  from  Africa. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

SPAIN  AND  FRANCE— THE  DON  QUIXOTE  OF  TO-DAY. 

It  was  almost  the  last  stroke  of  the  dying  year — one 
more  day  and  it  would  be  gone — that  I  found  myself  on 
the  ramparts  of  Cadiz,  looking  off  upon  the  great  ocean 
that  separated  me  from  America,  and  felt  that  my  visit  to 
Spain  had  come  to  an  end.  True,  I  was  yet  to  pass  a 
week  in  Gibraltar — a  week  of  very  extraordinary  interest ; 
but  Gibraltar  is  not  Spanish.  Though  a  part  of  the  main- 
land of  Spain,  it  belongs  to  another  power :  another  flag 
flies  from  the  top  of  the  Bock,  and  the  bugles  on  the  moun- 
tain side  play  the  martial  airs  of  England.  Whatever  I 
may  have  to  say  of  the  Great  Fortress,  will  more  fitly 
introduce  another  volume,  which,  beginning  at  Gibraltar, 
shall  conduct  us  for  a  thousand  miles  along  the  Barbary 
Coast,  from  Tangier  to  Tunis.  For  the  present  I  have 
only  to  make  my  bow  to  Spain. 

But  a  leave-taking  must  not  be  too  abrupt.  Spaniards 
are  very  punctilious  in  the  forms  of  courtesy,  which,  as 
they  observe  towards  others,  it  is  fit  that  others  should 
observe  towards  them ;  and  so  it  is  that  I  linger  on  the 
shores  of  a  land  in  which  I  have  been  so  kindly  received, 
and  of  which  I  shall  retain  a  delightful  remembrance. 


SPAIN  AND  FRANCE.  291 

And  yet — must  I  confess  it  ? — I  go  away  with  a  feeling 
which  is  partly  one  of  disappointment :  that  a  country  that 
has  had  so  great  a  part  in  history,  does  not  hold  a  greater 
place  to-day  among  the  powers  of  the  world.     My  Spanish 
friends  will  forgive  me  if  I  allude  to  this  but  for  a  moment : 
not  that  I  love  to  draw  sombre  pictures,  but  that  darkness 
furnishes  a  background  for  light,  which  in  this  case  is  so 
distinctly  dawning  in  the  East  as  to  give  promise  of  a 
future  that  shall  satisfy  all  the  national  pride  and  ambition. 
Nature  intended  Spain  for  a  great  country  :  its  position 
is  one  of  the  most  favored  in  Europe.    If  it  has  not  the  vast 
territory  of  the  Empire  of  Russia,  it  is  far  better  situated,  at 
the  other  end  of  the  Continent,  in  a  better  latitude,  with  a 
better  climate,  and  greater  facilities  for  commerce  with  the 
world.     In  the  latter  respect,  Spain  is  like  France,  which 
it  nearly  equals  in  territory,  the   two  countries  having 
almost  the  same  area  (France  a  little  over,  and  Spain  a 
little  under,  200,000  square  miles) ;  and  as  they  lie  side 
by  side,  they  present  many  points  for  comparison  and  for 
contrast.    A  glance  at  the  map  will  show  that  they  have  the 
same  general  shape,  "lying  four  square,"  with  an  ample 
front  on  every  side.     Both  have  the  immense  advantage 
of  being  open  in  opposite  directions  to  the  sea,  differing 
only  in  this  :  that  France  has  the  longer  coast-line  on  the 
Atlantic,  and  Spain  the  longer  on  the  Mediterranean. 

Thus  both  countries  start  in  the  race  of  progress  with 
about  equal  advantages  :  they  begin  as  it  were  abreast. 
How  then  is  it  that  Spain  has  fallen  so  far  behind  France  ; 
that  it  has  only  one-half  the  population,  and  less  than  one- 
half  the  wealth  ;  that  the  railroads  are  built  by  French 
capital,  as  the  mines  are  worked  by  English  capital ;  and 
that  in  all  the  elements  of  modern  progress  this  country 
is  a  hundred  years  behind  France  and  the  other  leading 
nations  of  Europe  ?  Since  it  is  not  for  want  of  natural 


292  THE  SPANIARD  AND  THE  GAUL. 

• 

advantages,  where  shall  we  find  the  explanation  of  this 
singular  historical  fact  ? 

I  answer  that  Spain  has  not  had  a  fair  chance  ;  that  she 
has  had  the  worst  governments,  civil  and  ecclesiastical,  that 
ever  cursed  a  civilized  country.  The  Inquisitor  was  the 
cowled  assassin,  the  monk-murderer,  who,  hiding  the  dag- 
ger under  his  monastic  robe,  was  feeling  for  his  country's 
heart.  Seeking,  wherever  there  was  a  precious  life,  to 
strike  it  dead,  he  sowed  the  land  thick  with  graves,  till 
Spain  was  a  vast  cemetery,  in  which  her  bravest  and  her 
best  were  "untimely  buried."  No  country  could  stand 
that  long.  It  is  a  proof  of  the  immense  vitality  of  Spain 
that  she  stood  it  for  generations.  But  the  final  result  was 
inevitable.  Weaker  and  weaker  the  nation  grew,  till  at  last 
it  was  so  bloodless  and  nerveless  as  to  be  not  only  without 
energy  and  strength,  but  even  without  hope  or  ambition. 

But  the  difference  between  France  and  Spain  is  not  to 
be  referred  to  political  causes  alone,  potent  as  they  have 
been  ;  but  to  something  back  of  all  these — a  fundamental 
difference  in  character  between  the  Spaniard  and  the  Gaul. 
They  are  two  races.  The  Frenchman  is  quick,  alert,  sus- 
ceptible to  new  impressions  ;  while  the  Spaniard  moves 
slowly  and  reluctantly,  with  a  haughty  pride  in  not  moving, 
and  a  sort  of  indignation  at  being  compelled  to  stir,  though 
he  may  yield  to  the  force  of  circumstances  what  he  would 
not  yield  to  the  force  of  argument.  Yet  even  then,  as  he 
lifts  his  heavy  limbs  to  put  them  one  step  forward  in  the 
path  of  progress,  it  is  with  a  proud  disdain  of  the  forces 
of  this  modern  age  that  compel  him  to  move  at  all. 

To  this  dissimilarity  of  temperament  is  due  in  great 
part  the  dislike  of  the  Spaniards  for  the  French,  which  one 
who  travels  in  Spain  must  recognize.  Surprising  as  it  may 
be,  yet  it  is  sadly  true,  that  the  nearest  neighbors  are  not 
always  the  best  friends  ;  and  there  is  no  people  in  Europe 


REVOLUTIONS  STOP  AT  THE  PYRENEES.  293 

to  whom  the  Spaniards  are  less  inclined  than  their  neigh- 
bors on  the  other  side  of  the  Pyrenees.  And  this  is  not 
merely  from  the  memory  of  old  wars,  but  because  the  two 
nations  are  not  sympathetic  :  they  are  twain,  and  you 
cannot  make  them  one  flesh. 

If  I  were  to  tell  the  whole  truth,  I  might  have  to  add 
that  the  Spaniards  not  only  hate  the  French,  but  that  their 
hatred  is  flavored  with  contempt,  looking  upon  them  as  a 
light,  volatile  people,  of  no  stability  in  anything,  ready  at 
any  time,  "  for  a  consideration,"  to  change  their  govern- 
ment or  their  religion ;  while  the  Spaniards  stand  fast,  like 
those  heavy  columns  of  Spanish  infantry  which,  in  the  time 
of  Charles  V.,  by  their  immovable  firmness,  carried  the  day 
on  many  a  bloody  field. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  most  of  the  revolutions  that 
have  swept  over  Europe,  have  stopped  at  the  Pyrenees — 
a  barrier  against  which  the  waves  from  the  North  have 
dashed  themselves  in  vain  :  a  fact  to  which  there  is  a  sin- 
gular analogy  in  the  mountains  themselves.  In  the  forma- 
tion of  these  mountains,  geologists  have  observed  that  they 
are  quite  different  *on  their  two  sides — rising  from  the 
valleys  of  France  by  a  gradually  ascending  slope,  while  at 
the  top  they  break  like  waves,  and  fall  into  deep  gorges  and 
chasms,  over  which  the  summits  hang  in  mighty  cliffs  and 
precipices. 

Not  unlike  this  has  been  the  effect  of  successive  French 
revolutions,  which,  tremendous  and  sweeping  as  they  have 
been  in  their  own  country,  have  exhausted  their  force  by 
the  time  they  reached  its  southern  boundary.  Or  if  the 
impulse  of  the  mighty  wave  carried  it  to  the  top  of  the 
Pyrenees,  there  it  broke,  presenting  to  the  Spanish  people 
only  the  glittering  spectacle  of  a  wave  of  French  froth  and 
foam,  falling  like  the  spray  of  Niagara  from  the  crests  of 
the  mountains. 


294  DON   QUIXOTE. 

In  this  comparison  Spain  appears  to  the  best  advantage, 
from  her  dignity  and  repose  ;  but  there  are  other  qualities 
needed  to  make  a  great  nation,  and  we  cannot  but  recog- 
nize the  fact  that,  with  all  that  is  truly  noble  in  the  Spanish 
character,  it  has  its  weaknesses,  for  which  the  country  has 
to  suffer. 

In  one  of  the  conversations  with  Castelar,  he  spoke  of 
Don  Quixote  as  a  picture,  not  only  of  human  nature,  but  of 
Spanish  nature — a  remark  which  has  often  recurred  to  me 
in  myobservations  since.  "  I  have  just  been  travelling  in 
La  Mancha,"  said  a  Spanish-German  friend,  "  and  I  saw 
there  the  very  windmills  which  Bon  Quixote  attacked : 
yes,  and  I  saw  Don  Quixote  himself,  and  Sancho  Panza, 
or  at  least  their  exact  types,  dressed  in  modern  Spanish 
costume."  My  acquaintance  with  Spain  has  been  more 
brief,  and  yet  I  have  several  times  had  the  honor  of  being 
introduced  to  that  most  excellent  Spanish  knight  and  his 
valiant  man-at-arms ;  and  I  hope  I  shall  not  give  offence 
if,  by  some  slight,  delicate  touches,  I  give  a  portrait  of  the 
Don  Quixote  of  to-day. 

Don  Quixote  was  a  mighty  man  Ox  valor,  who  lived  in 
a  world  of  his  imagination.  When  he  lifted  up  his  majes- 
tic person,  and  looked  round  the  Spain  in  which  he  was 
born,  he  saw,  not  its  vulgar  or  its  common  side,  but  castles 
in  whose  grim  towers  fair  damsels  were  confined,  to  deliver 
whom  was  the  calling  of  a  Spanish  knight.  This  was  a  voca- 
tion worthy  of  his  ambition,  and  of  that  courage  and  prowess 
of  which  lie  knew  himself  to  be  possessed.  H«  believed 
that  he  was  born  for  something  great,  and  here  was  the 
field  of  glory  into  which  he  would  enter.  He  would  be  the 
champion  and  defender  of  beauty  and  virtue.  Wherefore, 
mounting  his  steed  Rosinante,  with  his  trusty  follower, 
Sancho  Panza,  bringing  up  the  rear  on  a  mule,  he  leaves 
the  paternal  roof,  and  goes  abroad  in  quest  of  adventures. 


THE  DON  QUIXOTE  OF  TO-DAY.  295 

Adventures  he  has,  though  not  all  of  the  kind  that  he  seeks. 
He  is  often  reduced  to  sorry  plights,  when  it  is  hard  to 
reconcile  his  ideas  of  his  own  greatness  with  the  meanness 
of  his  condition.  But  he  is  equal  to  the  occasion.  Nothing 
daunts  him  ;  nothing  disconcerts  him.  His  loves  and  his 
wars  are  alike  of  the  noblest  kind.  If  he  goes  to  a  Spanish 
inn,  the  kitchen-maid  seems  to  him  a  high-born  senorita ; 
but  his  ill-timed  devotion  gets  him  into  no  end  of  trouble. 
On  the  high  road  he  is  prepared  to  face  armed  foes  ;  but 
meets  instead  a  company  of  country  louts,  who  laugh  at  his 
ridiculous  figure,  and  when  he  resents  their  impudence, 
tumble  him  from  his  horse,  and  kick  him  and  cuff  him  till 
there  is  not  a  place  in  his  body  which  is  not  sore  with  the 
beating.  Even  the  windmills,  whirling  without  his  per- 
mission, affront  his  dignity,  and  he  attacks  them  with  fury, 
only  to  be  left  sprawling  on  the  ground.  Such  is  the 
valiant  knight-errant,  whose  adventures  always  end  in  a 
sorrowful  experience  ;  but  not  a  jot  does  he  abate  of  his 
self-complacency.  This  he  keeps  to  the  very  close  of  his 
wonderful  career  ;  though  buffeted  by  fortune,  he  is  great 
in  soul,  and  carries  his  head  erect,  proud  and  punctilious 
to  the  last. 

Is  there  any  parallel  to  this  in  the  modern  Spanish 
cavalier  ?  Castelar  sees  a  resemblance,  and  even  a  stranger 
cannot  help  perceiving  it.  If  the  knight-errant  does  not 
still  ride  abroad,  his  counterpart  remains  at  home,  with 
the  same  chivalrous  spirit  in  his  breast ;  with  a  code  of 
honor  that  makes  him  quick  to  resent  an  insult ;  a  brave 
but  somewhat  choleric  gentleman,  whose  temper  takes  fire 
at  any  slight  to  his  dignity,  though  wholly  unintended,  and 
who  is  as  ready  to  attack  unseen  and  imaginary  enemies 
as  ever  Don  Quixote  was  to  charge  the  windmills ! 

At  the  bottom  of  all  this  is  an  excessive  and  over-sensi- 
tive pride — the  old  Castilian  pride,  which  has  descended  in 


296  THE  SPANISH  CAVALIER. 

full  force  to  their  successors.  It  is  not  a  pride  which  shows 
itself  in  insolence  towards  others,  but  one  which  will  never 
forgive  a  want  of  personal  respect.  When  you  are  intro- 
duced to  a  gentleman  of  this  country,  you  must  remember 
that  he  is,  not  merely  a  man  and  a  brother,  but  above  all, 
a  Spaniard.  He  will  treat  you  with  the  utmost  courtesy 
so  long  as  you  show  him  proper  consideration;  but  the 
moment  you  presume  to  treat  him  lightly,  or  to  patronize 
him,  you  must  expect  to  see  the  old  Spanish  hauteur  show 
itself  in  a  way  which  will  make  it  much  more  agreeable 
for  you  to  get  out  of  the  country.  So  far,  I  confess  I 
like  the  Spanish  pride ;  and  when  I  see  the  airs  of  supe- 
riority assumed  by  some  foreigners — airs  which  are  as 
vulgar  as  they  are  offensive — I  am  glad  that  there  is  one 
country  where  they  are  likely  to  be  so  effectually  snubbed 
as  to  make  them  feel  more  at  ease  in  body  and  mind  when 
they  have  recrossed  the  Pyrenees. 

But  pride  is  a  heavy  load  to  carry,  and  especially  for 
one  with  slender  resources  to  support  his  dignity.  There 
was  a  time  when  Spanish  grandees  might  consider  them- 
selves the  first  gentlemen  in  Europe,  since  they  had  not 
only  rank  but  fortune,  many  of  them  very  great  fortunes, 
created  by  the  influx  of  wealth  from  Mexico  and  Peru, 
which  made  them  like  the  merchant  princes  of  Venice.  In 
a  few  cases  the  old  estates  remain  in  the  family,  but  in  the 
greater  number  the  wealth  has  been  scattered  till  the  de- 
scendants are  left  with  only  the  inheritance  of  poverty, 
which  is  made  more  embarrassing  by  being  associated  with 
a  proud  name. 

Here  is  the  dilemma  in  which  tens  of  thousands  of 
Spanish  gentlemen  find  themselves  to-day.  Indeed  the 
number  might  be  enlarged  :  for  while  there  is  an  old  aris- 
tocracy, bearing  illustrious  names  that  date  back  to  the 
time  of  Castile  and  Arragon,  the  ancient  blood  has  de- 


PRIDE  AND   POVEKTY.  297 

scended  in  other  channels,  and  flowed  in  many  directions  ; 
so  that,  while  the  heads  of  the  great  houses  might  be 
counted,  it  is  impossible  to  count  when  you  come  to  the 
third  and  fourth — yes,  and  to  the  tenth  —  generation. 
Including  all  these,  the  Spanish  nobility  has  been  esti- 
mated, incredible  as  it  may  seem,  to  comprise  nearly  one- 
fifteenth  of  the  whole  population  of  Spain ! 

How  is  a  higher  class  so  numerous  to  be  supported? 
Some  may  become  officers  in  the  Army  or  Navy,  but  for 
the  larger  part  there  is  little  hope  of  anything  "  fit  for  a 
gentleman"  except  to  get  some  employment  under  the 
government ;  and  to  obtain  that,  however  humble  the  posi- 
tion and  petty  the  pay,  is  the  ambition  of  many  a  man  in 
whose  veins  flows  the  blue  blood  of  the  proudest  families 
of  Old  Spain. 

A  Spaniard  would  rather  die  than  not  keep  up  appear- 
ances. If  he  aspires  to  a  position  in  society,  he  will  try 
to  appear  rich,  or  at  least  independent,  while  in  reality  he 
may  be  desperately  poor.  To  this  end  there  are  two  things 
which  are  more  important  to  him  than  food  and  drink — 
a  carriage  and  a  box  at  the  opera !  To  show  himself  in 
the  Prado  at  a  certain  hour  of  the  day,  and  in  the  opera  at 
night,  satisfies  his  ambition.  For  the  rest,  how  he  lives, 
nobody  knows  and  nobody  cares.  He  need  not  give  din- 
ners :  indeed  he  may  not  have  a  dinner  to  give,  or  even  to 
eat  himself.  When  he  comes  back  from  his  daily  drive, 
and  alights  at  his  door,  he  may  retire  into  the  recesses  of 
his  chamber,  and  there  partake  of  the  meanest  food  to  sat- 
isfy the  cravings  of  hunger,  and  nobody  be  the  wiser.  The 
Spaniards  have  a  convenient  proverb  that  "  The  stomach 
has  no  windows !  "  What  a  man  wears  on  his  back  is  ex- 
posed to  the  gaze  of  all  men ;  but  what  he  eats,  nobody 
sees.  Or  if  indeed  he  does  not  eat  at  all,  nobody  can  see 
that  his  stomach  is  very  lean  and  hungry,  when  he  muffles 


298  GETTING  A  PENSION. 

his  cloak  about  him,  and  sallies  forth  to  meet  the  world 
with  an  unruffled  countenance.  Some  of  the  stories  which 
were  told  me  in  Madrid  of  the  petty  economies  to  which 
gentlemen  in  good  society  were  reduced,  were  quite  equal 
to  anything  in  the  shifts  of  Don  Quixote. 

But  the  Spanish  cavalier  is  not  yet  at  the  end  of  his 
resources  or  the  attainment  of  his  highest  felicity.  There 
is  one  more  prize  to  be  gained,  and  his  happiness  will  be 
complete  :  it  is  to  get  a  pension — a  hope  which  would  be 
chimerical  in  a  country  where  such  rewards  were  bestowed 
only  for  distinguished  public  services.  But  they  do  these 
things  differently  in  Spain.  Here  pensions  are  given  for 
all  sorts  of  services,  or  for  none.  The  most  trifling  claim 
is  recognized  by  the  assurance  of  a  certain  sum  from  the 
Government.  It  may  be  very,  very  small ;  but  no  matter 
for  that — it  is  fixed ;  and  so  long  as  it  secures  the  recipient 
from  absolute  want,  it  is  enough.  From  that  moment  he 
will  set  up  as  a  gentleman,  and  not  do  another  stroke  of 
work  to  the  end  of  his  days. 

Thus  it  is  that  the  pension-roll  of  Spain  has  become  so 
great.  Every  new  Administration  that  comes  in  has  a 
fresh  army  of  favorites  to  be  rewarded  for  devotion  to  their 
political  leaders,  and  the  number  swells  larger  and  larger 
from  year  to  year.  All  this  is  a  burden  which  the  State 
has  to  carry,  and  as  it  takes  the  labor  of  two  able-bodied 
men  to  support  a  third  idle  one,  the  drain  upon  its  re- 
sources is  enormous. 

But  what  cares  the  happy  pensioner  ?  For  him  life's 
woes  are  ended,  and  its  joys  are  but  just  begun.  Every 
day  he  will  spend  his  morning  at  the  cafe,  where  he  will 
sip  his  coffee,  read  his  journal,  and  twirl  his  cigarette  ;  the 
afternoon  he  will  take  his  ride  or  drive  (except  Sundays, 
when  he  will  go  to  the  bull-ring) ;  and  the  evening  he  will 
spend  at  the  theatre  or  the  opera.  When  life  flows  on  with 


"  THE  GREATEST  COUNTRY  IN  THE  WORLD."   299 

this  smooth  and  even  current,  in  a  perpetual  round  of 
amusements,  who  can  wonder  that  the  Spaniard  is  per- 
fectly satisfied  with  himself  and  his  country  ?  Why  should 
he  not  be  ?  Is  not  his  country  the  greatest  in  the  world  ? 
I  have  been  told  that  even  intelligent  Spaniards  cherish 
the  belief  that  it  is  still  the  first  power  in  Europe.  A  year 
since  there  was  some  fear  of  trouble  between  Spain  and 
Germany  about  the  Caroline  Islands  in  the  Pacific,  and  for 
a  week  or  two  the  talk  in  the  cafes  of  Madrid  was  of  war, 
and  not  a  doubt  was  expressed  that,  if  it  came  to  blows, 
Germany  would  soon  find  out  what  a  formidable  enemy 
she  had  to  deal  with !  Happily  she  was  forewarned  that 
discretion  was  the  better  part  of  valor,  and  withdrew  her 
pretensions.  A  friend  told  me  that,  in  conversation  with 
a  Spanish  gentleman  familiar  with  foreign  literatures,  the 
latter  did  not  hesitate  to  say  that  he  looked  upon  them  all 
as  only  so  many  pale  reflections  of  the  far  more  splendid 
literature  of  Spain !  Another  Spanish  gentleman,  who  had 
made  a  visit  to  France,  could  not  contain  his  joy  at  return- 
ing, and  said  with  an  air  of  one  who  smiled  approvingly 
on  a  rising  young  city,  that  "  Paris  was  very  well,  but," 
with  an  emphasis,  "  it  was  not  Madrid  !  " 

This  is  delicious.  Such  a  man  does  not  belong  to  the 
nineteenth  century.  He  is  a  knight  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
whosa  lot  it  is  to  live  in  this  vulgar  modern  time,  but  who 
still  keeps  his  exalted  air,  walking  on  the  battlements  of 
his  ancient  towers,  all  unconscious  that  the  world  is  sweep- 
ing by  him,  and  leaving  him  far  behind. 

There  is  something  truly  pathetic  in  this  unconscious- 
ness of  one  who  is  so  full  of  the  ancient  glories  of  his 
country  that  he  cannot  perceive  its  decay,  and  who  still 
dreams  dreams  and  sees  visions,  keeping  up  his  fallen  dig- 
nity by  an  increased  self-appreciation  that  shall  make  up 
for  the  loss  of  appreciation  by  the  world ;  and  one  can 


300  OVERWEIGHTED  WITH  DIGNITY. 

but  look  with  mingled  pity  and  respect  on  this  grand  old 
figure,  that  seems  to  have  stepped  out  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  and  that  even  in  well-worn  and  faded  raiment, 
preserves  the  traces  of  former  splendor. 

Complacency  such  as  this  it  would  be  cruel  to  disturb, 
were  it  not  that  these  airy  fancies  need  to  be  dispelled,  in 
order  that  the  Spaniards  of  to-day  may  come  down  to  the 
hard  ground  of  reality,  and  on  this  solid  basis  reconstruct 
the  fabric  of  their  country's  greatness.  A  nation  is  made  up 
of  individuals  ;  its  strength  is  merely  the  combined  strength 
of  millions  of  men ;  and  the  weakness  of  character  that 
makes  a  man  too  proud  to  work,  is  a  weakness  of  the  State. 
Herein  is  the  weakness  of  Spain  :  she  has  too  many  knights, 
and  they  carry  too  much  heavy  armor  ;  so  that  she  is  sadly 
overweighted  with  dignity.  The  Spanish  cavalier  is  a  little 
out  of  place  in  this  bustling  century.  If  this  man  of  war 
would  only  realize  that  the  age  of  peace  has  come,  and  lay 
aside  his  helmet  and  shield,  and  be  content  simply  to  do  a 
man's  work  in  this  work-a-day  world,  the  effect  would  soon 
show  itself  in  the  general  prosperity  of  the  country. 

The  common  people  of  Spain,  who  till  the  soil,  are  of 
the  right  stuff :  simple  and  honest,  brave  in  war  and  indus- 
trious in  peace.  A  friend  who,  in  a  residence  of  many 
years  in  Spain,  has  visited  almost  every  province,  and  min- 
gled with  the  peasantry,  tells  me  that  he  has  become  very 
fond  of  them  ;  that  he  has  always  found  them  kindly  and 
truthful,  not  disposed  to  take  advantage  of  a  stranger,  but 
bidding  him  welcome  to  their  humble  homes  with  genuine 
hospitality.  Strong  in  frame,  they  are  tremendous  workers 
in  the  fields.  Those  who  have  seen  them  in  the  long  Sum- 
mer's day  toiling  from  sun  to  sun,  will  admit  that  no  country 
could  have  better  husbandmen.  These  are  they  who  are  to 
create  the  wealth  of  Spain  ;  and  if  their  ranks  were  not 
thinned  by  conscription  for  the  army,  and  their  substance 


OLD  SPAIN  AND  NEW  SPAIN.  301 

eaten  up  by  taxes,  they  would  in  another  generation  create 
a  degree  of  prosperity  such  as  has  not  been  seen  within 
three  hundred  years. 

In  drawing  a  contrast  between  Old  Spain  and  New 
Spain,  I  have  not  meant  to  speak  of  them  as  if  they  were 
two  nations,  detached  and  separate  the  one  from  the  other  : 
they  are  but  two  parts  of  one  great  organism,  living  on 
from  age  to  age,  which  may  indeed  be  weaker  now  than 
in  some  former  century,  but  which,  in  spite  of  all  disaster, 
is  still  great,  or  at  least  has  in  it  the  elements  of  greatness. 
Some  of  my  hasty  countrymen  will  say  flippantly  that 
Spain  is  "  played  out."  Never  were  they  more  mistaken. 
The  country  is  still  here,  as  strong  by  nature  as  ever ; 
standing  like  a  great  fortress,  defended  on  one  side  by  a 
chain  of  mountains,  and  all  round  the  others  by  the  en- 
circling sea  ;  with  resources  unexhausted  and  almost  un- 
touched. If  France  be  richer  in  soil,  Spain  is  richer  in 
mineral  wealth,  and  indeed  is  said  to  be  the  richest  country 
in  Europe.  No  quicksilver  mine  is  equal  to  that  at  Alma- 
den  ;  no  iron  mines  are  richer  than  those  of  Bilbao  ;  while 
the  copper  mines  of  Rio  Tinto,  which  have  been  worked 
from  the  times  of  the  Phenicians,  are  to-day,  under  the 
trained  skill  of  English  engineers,  directing  the  labor  of 
four  thousand  workmen,  yielding  more  than  ever.  Thus 
Spain  is  a  country  overrunning  with  natural  wealth  :  its 
hills  bring  forth  brass,  and  its  mountains  iron  ;  while  its 
magnificent  coast-line  opens  its  broad-armed  ports,  north 
and  south,  east  and  west,  to  invite  the  commerce  of  the 
world. 

Thus  situated,  no  country  in  Europe  to-day  has  greater 
opportunities  than  Spain.  She  has  no  reason  to  be  envi- 
ous of  any  of  her  neighbors,  even  though  Castilian  pride 
may  be  wounded  to  think  that  the  Kingdom  of  Charles  V. 
and  Philip  II.  is  no  longer  counted  worthy  to  be  recog- 


302  SLOW  BUT  STEADY  PROGRESS. 

nized  in  a  Congress  of  the  Great  Powers  of  Europe.  So 
much  the  better !  Her  safety  is  in  standing  apart :  she  is 
in  no  danger  of  entangling  alliances,  which  shall  compel 
her  to  fight  battles  not  her  own.  Left  to  herself,  she  has 
only  to  work  out  her  own  salvation,  and  in  this  she  will 
have  the  good  wishes  of  the  friends  of  liberty  all  over  the 
world.  They  must  not  be  impatient  at  slow  progress,  for 
so  is  it  always  with  a  political  evolution  ;  it  is  enough  if  it 
be  really  begun.  Even  when  there  is  a  general  advance, 
there  will  be  occasional  setbacks,  as  there  is  one  here  just 
now.  Since  the  monarchy  was  reestablished,  the  country 
has  undergone  a  partial  reaction.  But  this  can  be  only 
for  a  time.  Castelar  describes  the  present  state  of  political 
affairs  in  Spain  as  not  unlike  the  restoration  of  the  Stuarts 
in  England,  of  the  Bourbons  in  France,  and  of  the  Pope 
in  Eome — a  temporary  reaction,  to  be  followed  by  an  over- 
whelming victory  for  freedom.  This  prophecy  of  good  is 
justified  by  the  course  of  events :  for  with  all  the  backward 
tendencies,  comparing  year  with  year,  there  has  been  a  slow 
but  steady  progress.  The  end  is  still  distant,  but  "  far  off 
its  coming  shines."  Good  government  is  the  last  attainment 
of  civilization.  Simple  in  its  object — the  mutual  protection 
and  defence — it  is  infinitely  complex  in  its  details,  requir- 
ing a  thousand  checks  and  balances  to  keep  it  from  verging 
to  despotism  on  the  one  side,  or  to  revolution  and  anarchy 
on  the  other.  Such  a  government  is  not  the  work  of  a  day 
or  a  generation.  To  build  up  a  great  nation  requires  all 
the  wisdom  of  the  wisest  and  the  virtue  of  the  best.  To 
this  end  the  most  liberal  and  patriotic  men  in  Spain  are 
now  working,  and  their  labor  will  not  be  without  its  reward. 
With  such  fond  thoughts,  I  linger  on  these  shores,  re- 
luctant to  depart.  Dear  old  Spain  !  With  all  her  faults,  I 
love  her  still :  for  her  faults  are  redeemed  by  splendid  qual- 
ities— a  high  sense  of  honor ;  a  truly  democratic  respect  of 


SPAIN  AND  AMERICA.  303 

man  for  man,  for  the  Spaniard  never  forgets  to  show  to 
another  what  he  demands  for  himself ;  and  above  all,  the 
gentle  courtesy,  inherited  from  the  ages  of  chivalry,  of 
which  the  stranger  has  frequent  experience,  and  which, 
like  charity,  covers  a  multitude  of  sins.  Such  a  country 
is  worthy  of  a  better  fate.  And  that  is  coming.  The  spirit 
of  liberty  is  abroad  in  the  land,  and  the  face  of  the  nation 
is  towards  the  rising  sun ;  and  it  is  not  impossible  that 
another  century  may  see  the  glory  of  Old  Spain  fading  and 
growing  dim  before  the  greater  glory  of  the  New. 

In  my  last  walk  on  the  ramparts  of  Cadiz,  I  was  startled 
by  a  heavy  gun,  and  turning  to  the  harbor  saw  a  large 
steamer  bearing  away  to  the  West.  It  was  the  weekly 
mail  to  Cuba,  by  which  Spain  keeps  up  communication 
with  her  great  dependency.  These  messengers,  coming 
and  going  across  the  deep,  carry  our  thoughts  to  the  dwell- 
ers beyond  the  sea.  It  is  not  yet  four  hundred  years  since 
Columbus  sailed  from  this  very  coast — from  Palos,  which 
is  not  far  above  Cadiz — on  his  great  voyage  of  discovery. 
That  was  one  of  the  turning-points  of  history,  as  it  opened 
another  hemisphere  to  the  expansion  of  the  human  race. 
Remembering  how  it  has  changed  the  course  of  empire — 
how  it  has  created  nations,  and  started  them  in  the  race  of 
progress  with  a  vast  increase  of  knowledge  and  of  liberty — 
Americans  may  well  desire  to  draw  closer  the  relations  that 
bind  them  to  the  country  to  which  they  owe  the  discovery 
of  the  New  World. 


